


The Serpents Tongue

by Blackrayvn



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens (TV) RPF, Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens AU - Fandom
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Anathema Device Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Anathema is Bisexual, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Canon Gay Character, Crowley DJs at the Serpents Tongue, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), DJ Crowley, Dream Sex, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, First Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gen, Good Omens AU, Heaven and Hell Are Confused By Me, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Will Surely Burn For This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Micheal Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Micheal is Pansexual, Other, Phone Calls & Telephones, Protective Crowley, Rough Kissing, Sex, Skinny Dipping, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), Wet Dream, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrayvn/pseuds/Blackrayvn
Summary: Crowley is the DJ of The Serpents Tongue.Aziraphale is new to the city and new tothe club.A chance meeting before leaves Crowley only withAziraphale's work numbers of Seven-Seven-Seven, untilAnathema, Micheal, and Aziraphale show up at The SerpentsTongue.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Anathema Device, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Michael (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Newton Pulsifer
Comments: 85
Kudos: 77





	1. Package Delivery

**Chapter One**

**Package Delivery**

**https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4vv2ROc73rtEiZR8nIr2u5**

Crowley woke up. Frowning as he looked at the clock, it was already three in the afternoon. Sitting up in his bed, his hands ruffled flame-red hair, currently sticking out in every direction. Kicking the blankets back, Crowley got out of his bed, walking rather naked into his bathroom, not caring that the curtains were slightly open.

Grumbling about the time Crowley turned on the shower waiting for the steam to fill the bathroom, he needed the heat to chase away the chill in his bones. With a snap of his fingers, Alexa turned on the music within his flat.

Bobbing his head as he got into the shower, the water finally hot, turning his pale skin red under the pressure and the heat. Water pounded on his spine, tilting his head back to wash his hair. Water slid over his body, washing off the sleep and getting him ready for tonight, well another night at the club.

Crowley washed up, rinsing his hair out finally, smelling like apples, with a shake of his head he got out of the shower. Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. Looking into the mirror, Crowley grumbled again, his snake tattoo traveling down his arm from his back, the head squarely on his hand looking up at him.

"What are you lookin' at," Crowley grumbled.

A knock from his front door grabbed Crowley's attention, tucking the towel around his waist he headed for the front door. Grabbing his glasses on his way to the door, the knock started again Crowley opened the door, having to look down a bit at the man standing there. A package in his hands, not quite looking at Crowley yet, being rather busy looking at his clipboard of deliveries.

Crowley cleared his throat as he stood there in his towel, hair wet, shaded glasses looking at the platinum blonde man in front of him. A slight smirk playing on his lips as the man stuttered as he looked up at Crowley, hesitating on the towel and then quickly locking eyes with Crowley's glasses.

A tilt of Crowley's head as he watched the hesitation, a cocked eyebrow as the glance continued up to meet where his eyes should be, but were conveniently hidden behind the glasses. Crowley, for once, was happy for more than one reason for those glasses, as when the blue eyes of them in front of him looked up, Crowley couldn't help but blink.

Inhumanely blue eyes bashfully blinked at Crowley as a blush the color of sunset traveled over the bridge of a perfect nose progressing down his cheeks. Crowley waited for a moment before reaching out to take the package from the man.

"Oh yes, sorry, so sorry, a package for an Anthony J. Crowley?" You?"

Crowley nodded, still taking in the man in front of him, he should order more things from home if this was who was delivering them.

"Ngk..yeah, me," Crowley smirked.

"Would you mind signing here, please?" Holding out the clipboard for Crowley to sign, Crowley caught the quick flick of the man's eyes, the blush, and then the inability to actually look at him anymore.

"Are you new?" Crowley signed the board, acutely aware of his state of dress, very aware of the glance the man in front of him gave him.

"Umm, no, well, yes to the area here, so that's it then." The man held out his hand for the clipboard.

"You 'ave a name then?" Crowley asked, handing back the clipboard. Holding it just out of reach, though, a name was what he wanted.

"It's rather boring, truly, are you all set then?' Crowley smirked even more as he watched the blush disappear under the man's collar. This was far too much fun.

"Uh-uh, name, please." Crowley tapped the clipboard with his fingers.

"I can give you my number, sir, if there is a problem, yes, yes, I have numbers. Seven, seven, seven..." The man nodded and reached for the board.

"Alright, seven-seven-seven, all set then.." Crowley released the board and watched how the man nodded and turned to leave.

Crowley stayed in his door watching the man leave, tilting his head to finish watching him go. A sigh at what he had seen, Crowley started wondering what else he needed that he could order. Looking at the time, he sighed and went to go get ready.

As Aziraphale reached his delivery truck, he found the ability to breathe again. Quickly climbing in and getting behind the wheel, he couldn't help the smirk that crawled across his face. It wasn't every day that he saw all of that, and as far as Aziraphale was concerned, that was a whole lot of that.

Looking back at the flat, he had just come from Aziraphale wasn't sure of what to make of one Anthony J. Crowley. Why did he want Aziraphale's name, he never had any problem with any customer, maybe it was because he couldn't help the way his eyes dropped to take in the man in front of him.

Aziraphale groaned at the thought and rested his head against the steering wheel. How could he have been so unprofessional, this was just awful. Now Crowley had his work numbers, Aziraphale was sure he was going to get into trouble.

Crowley quickly got ready, fixing his hair as he pulled it back, letting some hang down around his shoulder the rest up in a bun. Throwing on the nights wear Crowley was out the door and heading to his car, a Bentley parked right there, where he could see it.

As Aziraphale was pulling away, Crowley caught sight of the man and grinned, waving at him as he passed. If one was to ask Crowley, he would swear that he saw the man blush as he went by. Without fail, Aziraphale had most positively blushed from his head to his toes, groaning as he saw the wave.

Crowley arrived at Serpents Tongue and went in, knowing it was going to be a large crowd, it was Friday night, and he was the DJ. This was where he had full control of everything, and he thrived off it.

Crowley headed for the Dj booth as Newt called for him from behind the bar. Crowley waved at him, trying to get away without having to have a discussion. It wasn't that Crowley didn't like Newt, it was just Newt talked far too much and far too long.

Newt took Crowley's wave as an invitation, and Crowley saw it happen, letting a quiet growl escape him as Newt ran over to him.

"Heyo, Newt, what's up man, I don't have much time. Running just a bit late." Crowley had stopped, still holding his music for the night.

Looking up at the DJ booth that he almost made it too, the lure of the lights, the neon electronics, had Crowley's attention more than Newt.

"Oh, not much, I know you well, you need to get ready, but is there anything you need from us tonight? I don't mean, I don't want to be in the way." Newt tended to stumble over his own words, and it was well known to not let Newt touch anything, mainly because it tended to explode at his touch.

"Whiskey, just one, and don't touch anything." Crowley looked just slightly over the rim of his shaded glasses, sending Newt running back for the bar. Crowley couldn't help the smirk that he had as he hopped up into the DK Booth.

Crowley hooked up everything he needed for the night, looking at the time eight in the evening was quickly approaching, and the doors were about to open. Flipping the switches within the booth, lights started to dance and play. Testing the music, the speakers, and his mic, Crowley got ready.

Just as the lights went on and the smoke played in the air, the doors opened, Crowley watched the people come in. Some running for the bar, others heading for the dance floor in front of Crowley. Spinning the first set, Crowley smirked, always starting slower and building, waiting for the crowd to gather.

Thriving on the energy the crowd provided Crowley mixed his way into the crowd. Cheers, singing, bouncing, and dancing as the music fell upon the crowd, it was then that Crowleys caught a glimpse of someone that had never been to his shows before.

Aziraphale loved music, especially the music that was created by DJ's. To him, it was clean, clear, a mimic of the feelings of whatever DJ was spinning the mixes that night. Anathema and Michael from work had brought him to the show tonight, for Aziraphale was new to the job and the city.

Aziraphale followed Anathema and Michael out onto the dance floor, finally finding a place directly in front of the speakers. Right in front of Crowley as he spun the music into magickal melodies. The group of three started to dance and flow with the music, each song sliding into the next.

Crowley watched as platinum blonde curls bounced and swayed as Aziraphale danced with Anathema and Micheal. Long brown hair flowed around Anathema as Michael danced with her. The three of them beautiful in their own way, dancing within the melodies that Crowley created. However, that angel that was dancing in front of Crowley had his complete attention.

Crowley flipped the switches for the lights, and as he did, that angel was lit up by the brightest of lights. Still dancing, smiling beautifully took Crowley's breath from him as he watched. Crowley kept the music going, being thoroughly entertained and entranced by the man he only knew as of, seven-seven-seven.

Surprisingly agile, surprisingly well adept with dancing and was thoroughly enjoying himself with his little group. Crowley watched from behind shaded glasses, the smirk staying on his face as he watched. Slowing the music just enough for the dance floor to dance slower, more provocatively, Crowley grinned as the group danced slower, Anathema and Micheal dancing together before surrounding Aziraphale.

The group danced in a set of three, Aziraphale having Crowley's full attention. The group danced together, slowing, grinding against Aziraphale, who was laughing and obviously blushing furiously. Crowley still watched, glancing out over the rest of the crowd before speeding the music back up.

Newt ran over with a whiskey, almost tripping and dumping the glass contents onto the electronics. Crowley all but jumped to catch Newt, causing the song to skip. Aziraphale heard the skip, saw the man trip, and then saw Crowley catch Newt and the glass.

Blue eyes met shaded glasses for only a split second, but long enough for Aziraphale to blush furiously and turn towards his group, hiding his face in Anathemas hair. Crowley watched for only a minute before popping back up and switching the song, but it was apparent that Aziraphale was saying something to his group.

Crowley caught the slightly wicked smirk of Anathema as she glanced up at Crowley. Then Micheal did the same, except Micheal grabbed Aziraphale, who was attempting to escape and pull him in front of them.

Crowley wasn't sure what was going on, but he couldn't help but watch as the two started to dance slightly more than provocatively around and against Aziraphale. Crowley smirked and changed up the music again to fit what was going on.

Without further ado, Crowley switched up the music, watching the group. Aziraphale gasped, bit his lower lip and looked up as Crowley rested his chin on his hand, there was no shame in him staring at this point. Aziraphale tried to back away, only to be grabbed and sandwiched between his two friends.

Anathema danced in front of Aziraphale, swinging her hair and letting her body roll against Aziraphale, who held her by her hips. Aziraphale was laughing, and fully blushing as Micheal took Aziraphale from behind, his hands on Aziraphale's hips. Pulling Aziraphale back against him, the group danced as one, Crowley's jaw had since dropped.

Micheal was grinning up at Crowley as he pulled Aziraphale's hair, pulling him against him. Anathema spun and turned towards Aziraphale putting his hands on her hips as she faced him. Anathema was very adept at dancing as her body rolled and swayed against Aziraphale.

Micheal laughed as Aziraphale blushed even more profound, hands slid over Aziraphale's chest. Anathema pushed Micheals hands-off Azirphale spinning him to face Micheals. As she danced against the back of Aziraphale, Micheal all too happy with the current situation.

Aziraphale danced along with the other two, not caring at which direction he was faced. With a wicked grin, Aziraphale spun Micheal around, grabbing him by his hips and pulling him to him, pulling him against his knee. Micheals face dropped as he tried to turn around but was held rather firmly in place.

Anathema laughed as she spun her way to the front of Micheal, who was now sandwiched between the two. Aziraphale was more than obviously in control of who was where at this point, casting a glance up at Crowley Aziraphale grinned before spinning Micheal to face him again. Placing his knee directly between Micheals legs, Anathema closing the distance between them.

As the song started to come to an end, the group stopped and broke into laughter. Anathema grabbing Aziraphale's hand, who had Micheals hand the group headed for the bar to grab a drink. Aziraphale cast a glance over his shoulder towards Crowley, who was simply staring, a grin crawled across Aziraphale's face.

Anathema left Aziraphale and Micheal to run to the bathroom for a moment. Micheal and Aziraphale stayed drinking, ordering a set of shots for their group, waiting for Anathema to come back.

"Hey, Zira, did you catch the DJ?" Micheal grinned wickedly at Aziraphale.

"I, well, I think I delivered something to him today, he was in a towel," Aziraphale smirked as he finished his first drink.

Anathema popped back in behind Aziraphale, grabbing his sides and startling him. Whipping around, Aziraphale grabbed her, swinging her around before setting her back down.

"You are a witch, Anathema!" Aziraphale joked.

"You have no idea Zira! So, toweled DJ, is that what I heard?" Anathema teased as the three took a shot together.

"Oh, good lord, that is awful, what was that?" Aziraphale coughed at the shot.

"But..yes. Towel..." Aziraphale smirked with a tip of his head, he finished his drink.

Anathema and Micheal both stopped dead, looking at Aziraphale and then just past him. Over his shoulder, they both looked, Aziraphale noticed and suddenly felt something behind him, blue eyes dropped to the ground as his face flushed.

Turning around, Aziraphale looked up, being face to face with the DJ. Crowley smirked and looked down at Aziraphale, reaching past him and taking Aziraphale's shot. Quickly downing the shot Crowley once against reached past Aziraphale stopping just at his ear.

"I guess I will need to order more things, maybe wear less." Crowley was far too pleased with himself as he heard the groan from Aziraphale having been caught.

Crowley turned and went to leave the group, who were all staring between Aziraphale and Crowley.

"Catch you later, seven-seven-seven." Crowley hurried back to his booth and started ramping up the music.

"Seven-Seven-Seven?" Anathema and Micheal both asked.

"He asked for my name when I delivered his package, and I gave him my work number." Aziraphale groaned out.

Micheal and Anathema both started laughing and pulled Aziraphale back out onto the dance floor. Aziraphale making sure to never make eye contact with Crowley, even though he could feel Crowley's eyes on him the rest of the night.

As the bar came to a close, Crowley tried to find Aziraphale in the crowd that was leaving but having no luck, Crowley started to make plans on how to see Aziraphale again, or at least get his name. Crowley didn't even know if Aziraphale was his type, or he was Aziraphales type, but it was something he was definitely going to find out.

Anathema and Micheal dropped Aziraphale back off at his little cottage, down by the water. Much to their surprise, Aziraphale's house was full of books and bookshelves. A living room that resembled a bookshop, but still contained his couch and a few plush ar,m chairs.

Both looking around as they said their goodnights, Anathema smiled.

"You know, I think the DJ liked you Aziraphale." -teased Anathema.

"That's highly doubtful, my dear, though it would be nice." Aziraphale glanced over his shoulder at Anathema.

"Well, be careful with that, you never know about DJ's, usually have a bad rep." Micheal groaned out, not really happy with the idea.

"Oh Micheal stop, you just want Zira for yourself." Anathema ribbed Micheal, who pushed her.

As the group said their goodbyes, Aziraphale closed and locked up his home, closing the shades and as he walked back to his bedroom, dropping a show here and there and then finally collapsing into his bed. Dreams of a DJ in a towel plagued him that night, not that he genuinely complained.


	2. The Music of an Angel and a Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A competition, a blending of music.
> 
> Crowley and Aziraphale work together  
> making music no one had heard before.

**Chapter 2**

_**The Music of an Angel and a Demon** _

**https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi41IOURIO08ybMG7xTI3t0_**

Aziraphale woke up in his cottage, looking up at the ceiling in his room, the water from the lake cast dancing shadows above his head. Still adjusting to his new home and how lucky he was to have found it, he sighed. Sliding out of his bed, Aziraphale looked out the window, the sun shining off the lake like diamonds that the breeze would multiply and shine off of. Unable to stop the smile of happiness that found its rightful place on Aziraphale lips, he grabbed his clothes and got dressed for the day.

Making himself a rose petal tea with just a touch of sugar, Aziraphale opened the sliding glass doors that led to his backyard that faced the water. Walking out, Aziraphale took note of his garden that needed some help greeted him, as did the Victorian gazebo that someone had lovingly taken care of. Grabbing his violin, Aziraphale walked out and onto the gazebo setting up his music and getting ready to play.

The lake was coming to life with people boating, skiing and just enjoying the day. For a few moments, Aziraphale sat drinking his tea and letting the sun warm him, stretching out his fingers and wrists. Thoughts of going to the club with his friends crossed his mind. Though the DJ, Crowley, kept drifting in and out of almost every thought. With a sigh Aziraphale stood, taking his violin in hand, tuning the strings, making sure his bow was resin'd enough, he started to play.

Aziraphale was a talented violinist, he was, in fact, the first chair of the orchestra, he worked during the day so that he wasn't just in his house and away from people all the time. His talent exceeded most people's view of him, not only could he play classical as though he was born into it, but he also played something else altogether that was his and his alone. A piece of music that no one had attempted, and with that music, Aziraphale had become well known within the strings community.

The music was a blend of classical and new music, and the mix of the two was his own. That talent was what made him wanted in the orchestra and why he had moved from his last residence. Slowly the music started pouring from his fingertips as the bow caressed each string the sounds floating over the lake on breezes that were cool and clean.

The violin came to life with music that shouldn't be able to be played the way Aziraphale played it on his own. Slowly blue eyes closed as Aziraphale lost himself to the music he played, his mind and body becoming one with each note, each combination of sounds. The lake slowly faded from his mind and his eyes, the notes taking on what he saw and heard.

Sound and music flowed from Aziraphale's soul as he practiced. In a few months, the orchestra was putting on a show and competition for the masses. Something Aziraphale came to life when he played for. All his worries or insecurities left him when he played for others, it was a competition, and his music was original and beautiful, Aziraphale was determined to win.

Aziraphale's fingers danced over strings, faster and faster as his bow floated over the strings. Notes pure, cleanly sung from his violin, it was a new piece that Azirpahale was working on, making sure that no one could top what he played. Years of learning, practicing, and finding where he fit in and having the string community take his music seriously, this was a chance to be known even further.

Sitting outside in his backyard, Crowley decided on heading out to his boat on the lake. Taking a shower and getting cleaned up, Crowley gathered his belongings and headed out the door. Crowley tossed what he needed into the back of the Bentley and jumped in. Crowley headed to the lake, more precisely to the marina where his boat Edens Apple was waiting for him.

Crowley was going to go boating on the lake, enjoy the water and the views. Turning the key, the Bentley roared to life, purring under Crowley's command, pulling out Crowley sped away. Music flowing from the car as Crowley drove by houses, cars, and people enjoying the day. Pulling in Crowley looked over his car, getting out, making sure all was where it needed to be.

Walking to his boat, people that knew him from being a DJ at The Serpents Tongue waved and hooted at him. Grinning and thankful for his glasses, Crowley acknowledged some of them. Even then, he hurried to his boat. Today was his day off, and he wanted it for himself, not having to be the cool DJ, the mystery, or whatever people thought of him.

Crowley was more apt to stay by himself than go out of his way to gather people or even visit. Crowley loved music and was good at mixing it, it was only by chance that he ended up as a DJ. Still, the booth kept people at a distance, it was only when requests were made, or at the end of the night, he honestly had to deal with them, which he hated.

Finally reaching his boat, Crowley climbed in, starting her up and backing her away from the dock, heading for the open water of the lake. Apart from the shores, slowly, he cruised around the lake, taking in the views of the homes and people. Finding a spot finally, he slowed to a stop and threw his anchor out, here was as good as any.

Pouring himself a drink and kicking back to take in the sun. Thoroughly enjoying the sun, Crowley was more serpent-like than human. Without the sun, Crowley would swear his blood would freeze up. Tilting his head back, holding a whiskey in his hand, musical notes floated around the air.

Listening, Crowley opened his eyes, trying to find where the music was coming from. A violin being played somewhere along the shore caught his attention, beautifully played. Not classical but something else, Crowley's own music started to intertwine in his mind with the notes of the violin.

Looking towards the shore Crowley was sure he found where the sound was coming from. As he watched and listened, Crowley only took a moment to realize who and what he was watching and listening to. Platinum blonde hair glowed under the light of the sun, as the man played the violin as though it were a part of his very being.

Little did Azirapahle know that he did, in fact, have an audience, that was enraptured by his talent. Crowley sighed as he listened, such talent being kept on the lakes breezes. Feeling as though Crowley was seeing and hearing something that was not typically seen, he smiled.

Crowley sat there watching, unable to discern if he should go to him, or sit there and listen to the man play. Crowley had watched a few days before, as the man dance and enjoyed Crowleys music as he played it, and now here he was listening to Seven-Seven-Sevens music.

Decidedly Crowley stayed where he was, sitting back with his drink and listened to him play, and how he could play. Beats danced around Crowley's mind, letting the violin mix with those notes in his mind. It was a better than expected day for Crowley, and as his thoughts traveled away with him, Crowley wondered what he should order.

As the music slowly came to a close, Crowley started getting his boat together, preparing to head back to the marina. Knowing he was going to have to order something to be delivered, Crowley was going to find out more about this man. Aziraphale walked down to his dock that protruded out into the water; he sat on his dock, looking out when he noticed a boat that been there most of the day starting to head out.

Just far enough away, so Aziraphale couldn't read the name of the boat, but as he looked, the setting sun lit up the flame-red hair. Blinking Aziraphale sighed with a grin, had Crowley been there the entire time, did he listen to Aziraphale play? With that thought, Aziraphale blushed brightly but started to play his violin again.

Watching to see if it was, in fact, Crowley, taking in that flame-red hair, Aziraphale watched. Nimble fingers danced upon the strings, creating music that only Aziraphale could create. Aziraphale watched as the man stopped moving and turned towards him, sitting back down.

Crowley heard the music start back up again, looking back to the platinum hair that glowed under the sun's kiss Crowley sat back down and listened. Wondering how a violin was capable of creating something so beautiful, so easily placed with his own style of music. Crowley could hear it within his head, but as the music played, Crowley wondered what the man's name was.

Eventually, Crowley would find out his name, he wanted too. As if the man wasn't attractive enough to Crowley, he added music that he had never heard before. Crowley sat there and watched, listened until the music eventually drew to a close. Crowley watched as Aziraphale took his music, his violin and himself away, walking back into his house.

Crowley started his boat and headed back to the marina. As he drove the boat over the waters, he couldn't stop hearing the music that was made. It had to be what heaven sounded like, and Crowley needed to hear more, but how. Drifting his boat into its spot at the marina, Crowley stopped in to pay and check on anything new.

"Hey, Adam, what's new?" Crowley called over to the owner.

"Not much Crowley, busier than usual." Adam nodded towards Crowley as he finished with a customer.

Crowley waited for Adam to finish up and headed for the counter, holding out his monthly payment for the dock slip. Adam took the money and rang Crowley up, handing him back the receipt.

"How's the club doing? Been hearing a lot of good things from people, or more so the ones with hangovers." Adam chuckled, watching as Crowley's head tilted to the left, his shaded glasses covering his eyes.

Adam didn't need to see Crowley's eyes to know he was getting Crowley's typical judgemental look. Adam rolled his eyes and pointed towards the bulletin board in the marina.

"You going up for the competition? Looks to be a big one." Adam watched as Crowley headed over to read it.

"Didn't even hear about something new?" Crowley asked, reading it.

"No, just new to have it here, only the best of the best will be there. I'm going, maybe you should compete." Adam walked over to stand next to Crowley.

"Ngk...it's for real musicians, I just remake music that other people have done." Crowley looked at Adam.

"Shit Crowley, are you serious? You make everything sound better, you should look into it. From what I hear, there is someone in the area that's going to be competing as well, not sure who, though." Adam shrugged at Crowley and went back behind the counter to help customers.

Crowley turned to head out, giving a wave to Adam Crowley left. The Bentley perfectly where he left it, no one parked near his car, they knew better. Though as he drove home, the thought of the competition, could he actually compete or was is for what he called real musicians, and who lived here that was competing.

Finally, getting home, Crowley headed into his house, jumping on his computer and going to Amazon. Time to order something that had to be delivered, this time though he would find out Seven-Seven-Sevens name, he needed to. Wondering to himself though, if he was even into men, would he even like him, Crowley really didn't know.

Though thinking of how the man danced, Crowley came to the conclusion that Seven-Seven-Seven must. No one just danced like that, it was a touch intimate, and he remembered when the man glanced up at him. There was a playfulness about it, a teasing. Smiling Crowley ordered some electronics for his booth, just for fun, mainly to get seven-seven-seven back at his door.

Aziraphale got back into his house, sliding the door closed, he headed behind the curtain, peeking out at the boat. Watching as Crowley got the boat together and drove away from his spot in front of Aziraphale's cottage. Fate had to be playing a part in this, as Aziraphale knew no one knew him here really, except the new friends he had from work.

Anathema was beautiful and had come to Aziraphale to befriend him, followed by Micheal. Micheal was a very attractive man; at least Aziraphale found him so but, they were better as friends than anything else. At least Azirpahale thought that was the way Micheal saw him, and it was fine.

The night at the club was their idea and dragged Aziraphale out of his house to have some fun. Finally, convincing him to go, they were right. It had turned out to be a wonderful evening, especially once Aziraphale had seen Crowley, that man was absolutely what Aziraphale wanted. Though he was probably already with some woman or something, maybe? Maybe not, eventually, the longer Azirapahle lived here, he would find out.

Aziraphale cleaned up his violin, and placed it on its hanger, looking at it he smiled. The competition would have to be his electric violin, jet black, shiny, the mural of a flaming sword, and wings on it made it stand out from others. It was his design that had been done for him from a friend before he had to move.

Picking the electric violin up, Aziraphale started to play again, the sounds different than his standard violin but just as beautiful. Smiling Aziraphale continued to play late into the night, till his fingers started to hurt, with that he went to bed as he had work in the morning.

Closing his eyes, Aziraphale thought of Crowley as he drifted off to sleep. Hoping was maybe too much. At least he could dream about him, maybe see him at the club, but mostly Aziraphale dreamt of Crowley. A need forming in his stomach, even though he had already convinced himself it was something that would never happen, Aziraphale dreamt.

A few days later, a knock woke Crowley up. Grumbling as he rolled out of bed, his hair a disaster from going to bed with wet. Still, the knock happened one more time, without looking Crowley headed for his door, naked. Crowley could hear footsteps retreating his front door.

Crowley quickly opened the door, Crowley saw the back of Aziraphale, his hair alight in the sun, an angel. Crowley called out to him, watching as Aziraphale turned towards him and gasped. Aziraphale's jaw dropped as his face turned bright red, turning quickly around but not before his eyes followed the line of the very naked Crowley in front of him.

Crowley was confused for a split second, then looking down, his hands quickly covering parts, barely.

"Wait, stay, one second...Oh, for fucks sake... I'll...shit." Crowley quickly grabbed a throw from his couch, covering himself. Crowley's own cheeks bright red, having not meant to see Azitraphale again in this particular manner.

"OK, this is better, sorry abou' tha'.!" Crowley sputtered out at Aziraphale.

"Are you decent? I meanm you defintely are, but...Good Lord...Do you need something?" Aziraphale slowly turned back, looking first and then facing Crowley.

"Don't I need to sign?" Crowley tilted his head.

Aziraphale went to speak, but before Crowley reached and placed his glasses back on his face, Aziraphale caught just the color of gold. Beautiful, a color he had never seen before, it was a shame that Crowley placed those glasses back on, Aziraphale wanted a real look at those eyes.

"Sign, nope, not today." Aziraphale smirk, a sudden electric bastard started to powerup, as his grin crawled across his face.

"Wait, what why?" Crowley asked.

"Guess whatever you ordered wasn't that special? Plus, you were rather naked, sorry for waking you. Perhaps I should sign something..." Aziraphale turned to leave with a shit eating grin, walking back to his truck.

Crowley walked out after him, still holding the blanket around his waist. Aziraphale hopped up into his truck and looked forward, at a very persistent Crowley who was blocking his way.

"You know I can go in reverse," Aziraphale called out teasingly.

"What's your name? Don't make me keep calling you a number!" Crowley called back.

"Sir, mister, master would be nice, but I digress, Aziraphale, whichever you so choose," Aziraphale answered teasingly smirking as he saw that his answer stumped Crowley.

Reversing his truck, Aziraphale pulled back and waved at Crowley, who was still standing in the street. Dumbfounded by Aziraphale, who was more than a wiseass.

"Aziraphale...well, that's a mouthful, shit.," Crowley smirked, heading back into his house as the neighbor across the street whistled at him.

"Oh shut up, Pepper." Pepper laughed out loud as Crowley went back inside his flat.

Pepper had seen Crowley more than once without attire, he had a bad habit of not closing his blinds all the way or not at all. Pepper enjoyed the view, who wouldn't, and also when Crowley would practice or make new music in his flat, the neighborhood had no issue with Crowleys music unless it was late at night.

Crowley hopped in the shower, lathering up in apple-scented everything he thought of Aziraphale. Now that he knew his name, he could place the name and the man together, along with the music he played. Crowley wanted to hear him play again, but being naked as their third meeting wasn't exactly ideal.

Crowley smirked when he went over the meeting, he had forgotten the full-length glance that Aziraphale had given him before turning around. Also, the blush that disappeared under his collar just how far below that collar did that blush go. Crowley was more than amused as he showered, perhaps he would see him again at the club.

Crowley finished up and got ready for the night, it was the weekend, and they were having a bigger than usual event. It was the start of the main competition that was a few months away, this though, was a minor start. People could either bring in a cd for Crowley to play, or they could actually try and play with Crowleys music.

Crowley secretly wished that Aziraphale would show up to this, and play. How Crowley wanted to play with Aziraphale, his music sang to him, lifting his soul with just the sound. How would they sound if they played together, in Crowley's mind, he could hear them playing together, and it was beautiful.

Anathema showed up at Aziraphale's cottage, beeping her horn as she impatiently waited. Micheal jumped out of the car and rushed up to knock on Aziraphale's door while making gestures at Anathema to stop beeping. Anathema laughed at Micheal and beeped again, just to get the roll of Micheal's eyes.

Aziraphale opened the door holding his violin case in hand. Micheal grabbed Aziraphale's arm and started to drag him to the car.

"Let's go, we're gonna be late!" Micheal chimed.

"ZIRA lets GOOOO!" Anathema embarrassingly yelled out at the two of them, both blushing and grumbling.

"Alright already Anathema, no need to yell, what's the worse that could happen? We're late, I won't play?" Aziraphale climbed in the back seat of the car, just as the door closed Anathema floored it.

"You are performing at the club! It's part of your competition! Still don't know why you work with us." Anathema looked briefly in her rearview at Aziraphale, who was holding on for dear life.

"Please slow down Anathema. You can't do ninety in the middle of town!" Aziraphale cried out.

"Why not?" Anathema smirked at Micheal, who was looking out the window.

"We don't need to be there exactly on time Anathema, you are going to kill us, and then we'll never be able to hear him play!" Tilting his head towards Anathema, who smirked but slowed.

"Fine, fine. What are you going to play Zira?" -both Anathema and Micheal asked almost entirely in harmony.

"Something I wrote. it's different." Aziraphale had eased his grip on the seat, feeling the car slow down.

Looking out the window, they pulled up to The Serpents Tongue, the parking lot full, the line out the door and down the street. Anathema smirked and pulled directly upfront, both men looking at her as she motioned for them to get out.

"Can you tell Newt were here, please." Anathema still explained nothing to her two friends.

Just as both Micheal and Aziraphale were about to question Anathema, the car was driven away, and Newt came out the door smiling at Anathema.

"You guys made it, great, come in, come in!" Newt brought the group inside, sitting them at a booth he had saved for them all.

"So you're going to play then, Aziraphale?" Newt questioned.

"How do you know my name, but yes, yes, I am going to try." Aziraphale looked at Anathema, who was looking out at the crowd.

"Anathema told me, and well, I owed her a favor, she used it for this. Our DJ will call you up when it's your turn, have you met him yet?" Newt asked as he was looking over Anathema with a longing smile.

"Not officially, but I know of him, I am good here until I am called up, are there many?" Aziraphale inquired.

"Yes, there are about fifteen I believe not including you. I'll let Crowley know you're here." Newt left without further ado.

Aziraphale watched Newt walk up to the DJ booth. Aziraphale's eyes drifted further up into the booth, the light catching the flame-red hair that he found there, taking his name from Newt. Crowley smiled as he was handed the note and read the name, looking out over the crowd, Newt pointed towards Aziraphale.

"Hey Zira, good luck up there, you're gonna do great. I really can't wait to hear you play!" Anathema pulled Aziraphale's attention back to herself.

Aziraphale looked at Anathema, but someone else drew his attention. Aziraphale couldn't help but look back at Crowley, the way the light touched his hair, the way he moved up on the stage within the booth. The music he played sung to Aziraphale, and his thoughts drifted away with him, he could hear his violin playing against Crowley's beat and melody.

Anathema and Micheal both watched and saw how Aziraphale's attention was drawn by Crowley, and they smirked at each other.

"Someone you like, Aziraphale?" Anathema chided him with her knowing smile.

"I could send him a note with Newt for you." -Anathema continued.

Aziraphale all but choked on his drink, at the very thought.

"Oh NO, Anathema don't, why on Earth would you think he would even, please no." Aziraphale blushed furiously as she chuckled.

"Fine, fine, but he's going to hear you play. Plus, you realize the winner has to play with him. Think you could handle that?" Micheal asked bluntly.

"I think it would be rather lovely." Aziraphale's answer in a swooning type of way as his eyes found Crowley looking in his direction.

With a shake of her head, Anathema sat back and waited, Micheal was talking to Aziraphale explaining who was going up, what he thought of them. Finally, a few hours after arriving, and plenty of talented musicians music was played by Crowley, Aziraphale heard his name called by Crowley who smirked at Aziraphale as he walked up onto the stage.

Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale unpacked his violin, testing the strings quickly, bow in hand he turned to Crowley, and nodded. Crowley got the crowd quieted as Aziraphale started to play, the music played along with the people who were expecting far less than they heard.

Crowley couldn't help but be an awe of the music Aziraphale played. Looking back up at Crowley, Aziraphale smiled at him, his note quickened as he looked at Crowley. A connection, a feeling, a thought fell between them as Aziraphale continued to play. The crowd starting to clap along with the song Aziraphale played.

Then as Aziraphale's music came to an end, the crowd erupted into applause; Crowley smiled at Aziraphale, nodding towards him as Crowley started music. Aziraphale looked at him bewildered until he heard the beat and saw Crowley motion to play the violin. Smiling Aziraphale began to play in time, against and with Crowleys music.

The two blended making something more than music as Aziraphale played, and Crowley matched him. The song went on, the people in awe, Anathema, and Micheal, standing clapping and cheering on their friend. Aziraphale couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, this sound, Crowleys sound was what his music was lacking.

It was new, it was him, and together Crowley had made the music, them. Faster as Aziraphale played never missing a note, as he played by ear, having never played this before even Crowley was watching the way Aziraphale played to decide what to add in and where. Crowley felt his music, felt it sing within the notes of a single violinist.

As the music came to an end, Aziraphale was beaming brighter than the lights dancing around him. Not being able to look away from Crowley, he nodded his head and smiled at him. Crowley hopped down from the booth and went to Aziraphale's side. Holding out his hand to shake it, Crowley looked at the Aziraphale's hand and instead pulled Aziraphale into a hug.

Shocked and in awe, Aziraphale hugged Crowley back both smiling, as the crowd applauded them both. It was an easy win for Aziraphale, as the crowd cheered him on, but as he took a bow with Crowley, he held Crowley's hand just a moment too long.

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale's hand before letting it go and returning to his booth. As he left, he whispered to Aziraphale...

"I know your name now Aziraphale, maybe you'd let me get to know you better?" Crowley smiled as he walked away.

Aziraphale was at a loss for words watching Crowley walk away. Did he hear him, right? No, yes? Aziraphale nodded his head to Crowley. Anathema came up on stage, grabbing hold of Aziraphale's hand and brought him back to the table in celebration. As they celebrated, Crowley played back the song that he and Aziraphale had played.

Aziraphale drank and celebrated with his friends, but he couldn't help but look up at Crowley, who was looking back over at him every now and then. Feeling a pull in his stomach of butterflies every time he thought of getting to know Crowley better.

Aziraphale couldn't wait to see what the future would bring. Between the competitions, the play, and Crowley, his world only seemed to get better since he arrived at his new home. Feeling loved, feeling buzzed, Aziraphale let himself have a grand time.

Crowley watched Aziraphale from his booth as he spun the music. Replaying the music they made together sent a thrill through Crowley, something about Aziraphale tickled him. The way the lights lit Aziraphale up, Crowley decided the man was an angel, and he couldn't wait to get to know him better.

They both couldn't wait to play again together, what music could they make. Crowley started to think that maybe the two could make music for the competition, a way for Crowley to be heard and a way for Aziraphale's music to be taken seriously. Crowley's mind was filled with thoughts and ideas, filled with Aziraphale.


	3. Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finds Anathema at  
> The Serpents Tongue as he tried to find out  
> where Aziraphale has gone.
> 
> Anathema brings Crowley to a concert hall where  
> the two hear Aziraphale play, only to end up  
> back at The Serpents Tongue.

_**Chapter 3** _

_The Start of Something New_

**https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4HNB7VSN9oH_tYvpof8XGc**

Crowley sat on his balcony, the sun dancing over his angular features, glancing at his plants, growing, ideally, of course, they knew better. Sun shone through the copper flames that fell to Crowley's shoulders, and with a snap of Crowley's fingers, the music clicked on, music that he had put together.

Thoughts of the angelic delivery man, Aziraphale, flowed freely through his mind. What kind of name was that, honestly? Fitting of an angel, obviously, Crowley smiled, hearing the music play in his head, music that the two had made.

Without practice, Crowley and Aziraphale had made beautiful music. Between Crowleys DJ style and an angels not so classically classical violin playing, the music was amazing, Crowley couldn't wait to see Aziraphale again. Just something about Aziraphale caught Crowley's attention, he certainly wasn't what you would typically expect to find in The Serpents Tongue and dancing at that.

Later that night, Crowley would be DJ'ing at The Serpents Tongue again, he was going to use this time to perfect his set, Tomorrow Land was in two weeks, and there he would have to entertain thousands. Excited was an understatement. Standing, Crowley grabbed his cup of coffee and headed back inside his flat.

Calling Crowley's style minimalistic was an understatement, everything that he had, he had placed lovingly. These items held meaning to him, things he collected throughout the years, including but not limited to an angel and demon fighting. Though if you were to ask Crowley, they were enjoying themselves a touch too much. A smirk crossed his lips as he walked past the statue, letting his fingers dance over the angelic figure, "Aziraphale" fell from his lips as he entered his kitchen.

Grabbing a shower, Crowley quickly got ready to go to work. Finally happy with the set, he had, Crowley decided to play it at The Serpents Tongue and see how the people liked it. Plus, maybe he would catch a glimpse of that angel.

The Bentley roared to life as the keys turned the engine on, Queen started to play slowly ebbing into a DJ mix of his own design, and Crowley's foot floored the gas pedal. Speeding along, Crowley never hit anything, almost as though the car could see things before they happened. Car and driver were one, and together they caused chaotic havoc.

Crowley had been dj'ing each night, practicing, looking for Aziraphale, but since their musical moment, Aziraphale hadn't come back, not even for deliveries. Crowley looked out into the crowd for Aziraphale, finally seeing the beautiful brunette that everyone was either watching dance or trying to dance with. Crowley watched for a moment as Anathemas hair spun out and around her, seemingly and lovingly dancing with her.

Crowley set the music and let it go, jumping down from his booth, pushing his way to Anathema, smiling as he took in her curves and the way she moved. Crowley wasn't going to lie, but Anathema was beautiful, and she most definitely could move her body. Crowley liked what he saw and decided that he was going to dance with her if she allowed him too, plus maybe she knew where Aziraphale was.

A tap on Anathema's shoulder spun her around, as beautiful chocolate brown eyes locked onto Crowley's shades. Anathema smiled as she realized who it was, moving forward; she rested her hands, on Crowley's shoulders smiling as she continued to dance. Crowley nodded and took Anathema in his arms as they danced.

Anathema moved with the beat of the music as Crowley spun her, dipping her lowly before pulling her back up to face him, a devilish smirk dancing its own way across Crowley's face.

"Can I ask you something?" Crowley yelled over the sound of the music being played.

Anathema had heard the question but slid down Crowley instead, pressing back up against him as she rose to meet his shaded stare.

"What's up?" Anathema asked as she slithered slightly closer to Crowley.

"Where's Aziraphale been, I haven't seen him since he won that competition." Crowley pulled Anathema out of a spin and up against him, smirking.

"Ummm, let me think..." Anathema rolled her body against Crowley, smirking like a wise ass. "Oh! He's in the concert hall."

"What's he doing at the concert hall?" Crowley spun Anathema around, plastering himself up against her back, his hands sliding to her hips as they danced to the music.

"Are you serious? Aziraphale is their star, its practice today all day, it has been for over a week." Anathema leaned back, arms going over her head and sliding behind Crowley's neck, lacing themselves there.

"Bring me?" Crowley asked Anathema, smirking as they danced together, rolling her hips, Anathema managed to get impossibly closer as her hips moved.

Smirking the two danced on the dance floor, Anathema had caught the tilt of Crowley's head as he asked about Aziraphale, she could tell Crowley was far more interested than he even knew himself.

"Sure, can you go now? We might catch him playing." Crowley smiled, sliding his hands up Anathema's sides to her hands behind his head.

"Let's go, this set is already finished they don't need me for it." Crowley spun Anathema around bowing slightly. "Thank you for the dance, my lady." Crowley grinned wickedly.

"Come on, let's go, follow me. I love dancing, but it's these other guys, I end up with a rod stabbing me in the back." Anathema grabbed Crowley's hand and pulled them both outside.

"Follow me, alright?" Anathema jumped into her car, watching as Crowley hopped into a beautiful black Bentley, pristine wouldn't even cover how beautiful the car was.

Pulling up behind Anathema, Crowley followed her. Not more than fifteen minutes away, the two reached the largest concert hall in the city. The only thing that was bigger was Tomorrow Land, and that was because it was outside, this though, concert halls intimidated Crowley, too closed in, too formal.

Parking the cars, the two got out and walked up to the concert hall. Anathema took Crowley's hand in hers and quietly walked in, finding the hall empty they decided on seats at the far back of the concert hall. There in the front of the stage was Aziraphale. Platinum hair lit up like a halo around his head.

Crowley sighed as he sat back in the chair, Anathema smirked catching the sigh that Crowley let out. Anathema had a feeling, and her feelings were usually right, she looked at Crowley his aura shimmered around him, changing colors as he looked at Aziraphale. Sitting back in her chair, Anathema decided to let things go on there own. This time she would try to keep her distance.

Casting sidelong glances at Crowley, Anathema smiled, saying nothing, as Crowleys eyes were lit up like stars. A single puff of air that left Crowley's lips watching Aziraphale, his breathing slowed, and the way his breathing quickened the longer he watched Aziraphale. Crowley was in love, he just didn't know it yet, but Anathema knew it. Closing her eyes, Anathema sat back against her seat and waited for the music to start.

Aziraphale was preparing himself to play in the rather large concert hall, it was yet another day of practice with the entire Orchestra, and Gabriel would be there. Aziraphale wasn't really crazy about Gabriel, and if truth be told, Gabriel scared him. With a slight shiver, Aziraphale took out his violin, not the one he wanted. Still, Gabriel decided that Aziraphale's violins were too flashy, and it was either to be a standard violin or, at most, black.

Aziraphale smiled as he pulled out his ebony violin, completely missing the midsections it was directly open. This violin was him, loving the way the violin sounded, somewhere in the deepest crevices of his mind Aziraphale knew Gabriel was going to complain. Still, Aziraphale knew how to take it, and he would deal with his anxiety when he got home.

The Orchestra slowly started trickling in, taking their places. The sounds of paper turning, finding the right sections to begin at, Aziraphale didn't need the music. For he had already memorized it, which was another thorn in Gabriel's side. Aziraphale closed his eyes, he could hear all the instruments being tuned, scales being played, making sure that everything was perfect. It always had to be accurate. If it wasn't, the mistake would set the entire piece on a wrong note. It would destroy it.

Aziraphale sat in the front row, as the first chair violinist, he had earned it, and he loved it. Aziraphale had become an accomplished violinist that was wanted in many orchestras, but he had chosen this one because he was promised the ability to play his way. Though, so far, Gabriel had shut that down with every chance he got.

Gabriel wanted classical and nothing but classical, though Aziraphale loved it, he was starting to find it annoying. Aziraphale's thoughts slowly dipped away from the music on the pages in front of him, drifting to Crowley. The DJ, he was beautiful, and the music he played was amazing to Aziraphale. The music they had made together was even more so, closing his eyes, he could hear the music again, but it was the incessant tapping that brought Aziraphale back to the present.

Blue eyes opened slowly, looking upwards towards the tapping and meeting irritated violet eyes as Gabriel looked at Aziraphale. Sighing, Gabriel continued the tapping as the rest of the Orchestra gathered itself together and waited. Quickly Aziraphale got himself ready to go, standing he waited for Gabriel to give him the go-ahead and set the tempo. Aziraphale stilled his breathing, calmed his hand, and waited, watching, bow raised, violin nestled under his chin.

Gabriel's baton was lifted into the air, his free hand turned and raising for the Orchestra. The lifted baton counted out the beats, showed the Orchestra the tempo, and where to follow, the first note played, slowly the music started to pour from Aziraphales violin. Music, pure in its sound, lovingly touched, flowing, and surrounding Crowley.

Leaning forward as Aziraphale played the notes perfectly, pulling, entrancing. A soundless gasp left Crowley as Aziraphale played a note that was impossibly high, and yet there it was. Crowley could feel the music touching his soul, the orchestra playing, yet falling somewhere below and behind Aziraphale as he played.

Aziraphale's eyes closed as his violin sang, each note flowing freely, a violin that sang. Aziraphale made it look easy though the sounds he created were from heaven. The Orchestra followed Gabriel's command and came in to fill the background of Aziraphale's playing. Over and over again Aziraphale played the violin, the notes came faster and faster, Crowley smirked waiting to see Aziraphale bow catch fire.

Gabriel motions pulled and pushed the Orchestra, faster, slower, and finally, Gabriel's hand and baton crossed each other and silenced the Orchestra. Though as the Orchestra silenced, Gabriel's hand still motioned to Aziraphale. The notes came faster and faster, Gabriel watched and directed only Aziraphale now.

Aziraphale played inhumanely fast, each note perfectly pitched without missing a single moment. Gabriel quickened Aziraphale's pace again. Still, Aziraphale played and played. Crowley and Anathema watched, amazed at what they were seeing and hearing. Anathema leaned forward onto the chair in front of her as Aziraphale played.

Crowley and Anathema had no way of knowing just how good Aziraphale was until now. Looking at each other and then back to the stage as scales were run through without trouble, they both smiled. Then the last note was played, and Aziraphale looked at Gabriel, who again lifted his baton for the Orchestra to follow.

Once again, the Orchestra followed suit a newer song suddenly being played, and again Aziraphale played. Making it look far easier than it actually was, no one could play like that here. Crowley just watched understanding why Aziraphale was the star of this Orchestra. Suddenly Crowley felt that his music wasn't up to par with Aziraphale's, maybe that was why he hadn't come back.

Anathema watched and felt the change in Crowley, with a smirk Anathema punched Crowley in the arm seeing his face drop watching Aziraphale; she could tell and feel that Crowley's mood had a sudden change.

"What's going on, Crowley?" Anathema tilted her head in wonderment.

"I, well, I can't compete with him, he is amazing." Crowley sat back, keeping his eyes still locked onto Aziraphale.

"What the, are you serious? Let me give you a hint since you seem to be oblivious to it. Aziraphale plays classical because that is all Gabriel will let him play, he's complained about it since he started working with me Aziraphale was supposed to be able to play music like yours. What do you think that competition was for?" Anathema placed her hand on top of Crowleys.

"What do you mean, Anathema?" Crowley looked at her, searching for an answer.

"There is a huge competition coming up, anyone can enter it, and the Orchestra here was supposed to compete and use Aziraphale as their secret weapon. Aziraphale can not only play the violin, but he can move, when he does, and he prefers to play music like what you do. Both of you are nuts, just go talk to him when they are done." Anathema gave Crowley's hand a squeeze as she sat back again, closing her eyes to listen to the Orchestra.

Crowley sat back into his chair, music that he had never heard before started being played. It was Aziraphale, his violin, Crowley could feel the music, feel it surround him, fill him. Crowley let his eyes slide shut listening to the beauty that flowed from the stage, even with the orchestra playing, he could hear and feel Aziraphale's music.

The Orchestra swelled, swayed, following Gabriel's commands, as though Gabriel was directing a choir of angels into battle, each knowing their place, and when to attack. In the lead of the orchestras angels was Aziraphale, leading them into the next measure, the next moment of a battle between notes.

Crowley recognized the next sone, Canon in D, and Aziraphale took it and made it his own. The heavens opened with the next measure, Crowley could feel it in his soul, it sang out with the music. Crowley's mind danced within the notes being played, following one violin, following one angel as he played. Crowley's music started to blend in within the notes, the measures that were being played, Crowley could hear the drums, the bass, could listen to how his music fought against the celestial harmonies being played on the stage.

Somehow though, Crowleys music fought a battle within the notes, but instead of it sounding as though a battle was being fought, his music danced in between the musical notes that were being played. Crowley was able to hear it clearly in his mind tempting the music he could make with Aziraphale, the notes, the sounds. Crowley's heart pounded in his chest as he let his mind play, hearing the notes intermingle with Aziraphales violin.

Crowley's music would follow Aziraphale's lead as though Aziraphale had taken charged and twisted Crowleys music into his own. Crowley's heart pounded, his breath quickened. Anathema watched, taking in Crowley's aura as the colors flashed, changing, melding together as the music continued.

Looking down towards Aziraphale, Anathema saw that his eyes had closed as he was playing, his aura just as beautiful, the colors slightly less invasively bright. Pastels, creams, silvers decorated the aura around Aziraphale; Anathemas' breath was taken from her as the music continued. Tears filled her eyes from the beauty that she was hearing, looking over at Crowley she watched as a single tear ran down his cheek.

Aziraphale's fingers danced over tightened bowstrings as his bow was dragged over each note, his fingers pressed down into the bow playing. Swaying along with the music, Aziraphale lost himself in his notes every now and then opened his eyes to see Gabriel leading him down whatever path was needed.

Musical notes played, dancing on the air of the concert hall, echoing back and forth through the room. Gabriel calling forth yet more strings into the mix, the sound of bells being caressed in time with the rest. Aziraphale's playing slowed as the others caught up into a harmony of sounds, of life that played from an angel's fingertips.

Crowley leaned forward again, resting his arms on the back of the chair in front of him, watching. Taking in every note that Aziraphale played within an orchestra that couldn't contain or drown him out. Aziraphale smiled as he played. Slowly opening his eyes, Aziraphale caught sight of Crowley watching from the back. Instantly flushing, Aziraphale looked towards Gabriel, who gradually brought the Orchestra to a close.

Gabriel lowered his baton, sighing loudly, his eyes glancing over the orchestra landing finally on Aziraphale. A shiver ran through Aziraphale, the look that Gabriel glared at him would make hell freeze over.

"We have got a long way to go, Aziraphale." Gabriel stepped down, rolling his eyes at Aziraphale. "That was meager at best, where is all that umph you had?"

Aziraphale looked between Crowley and Gabriel before opening his mouth to answer only to be shut up by Gabriel.

"I don't want to hear it, Aziraphale. If you can play at some club with some piss poor excuse for music better than you can play here, maybe we don't need you. Just go home." Gabriel turned towards the Orchestra. "All of you go home practice. If it's not perfect by next weekend, you're all fired."

As Gabriel stormed out, the Orchestra let out a breath it didn't know it had been holding. Crowley had stood up when Gabriel was beating down his angel with words that Aziraphale didn't deserve. Crowley's mind caught the moment that Aziraphale went from Aziraphale to my angel and locked that moment into place.

Just as fast as the Orchestra had put itself together, they were gone just as quickly. Gabriel nowhere to be found, and Aziraphale sitting back unceremoniously into his chair looking blankly at his violin. Crowley walked up to the stage with Anathema in tow.

"You alright, Angel?" Crowley said before he had even registered what words were.

Aziraphale stopped and looked at Crowley as soon as Angel popped out of his mouth.

"Hmmm, Angel, seems rather fitting, doesn't it..?!?" Aziraphale smirked before tilting his head to look at Crowley's. "I like it, Angel...huh."

Crowley's faced flushed, the moment Aziraphale accepted and enjoyed Crowley calling him Angel seemed to make Crowley's day.

"Let's get out of here, we can go back to the club for a while, yes you two?" Crowley asked, looking between Anathema and Aziraphale.

"Oh god yes, let's go, come on Azira let's go!" Anathema cheerfully hopped up and down a bit, walking back towards the door.

"Okay, I could use a drink. Are you playing Crowley?" Aziraphale looked to Crowley as he placed his violin back into its case.

"I can, but only if you play at least one song with me?" Crowley looked hopefully from behind shaded eyes.

"Really? You would want to do that?" Aziraphale looked hopeful even as the sunset colors crossed his nose and traveled down his neck, just below his tartan bowtie.

"Are you kidding? Of course, let's get out of here, that guy just so you know, what a prick!."

Aziraphale smiled, placing his violin back into its case and sitting back up. Reaching up, Crowley watched as Aziraphale undid his bowtie, the top few buttons of his shirt. Shaded eyes followed Aziraphale's hands down, as the button on sleeves were undone and then rolled up. Aziraphale smirked, seeing the flush that crossed Crowley's bridge of his perfectly imperfect nose.

Crowley cleared his throat seeing that Aziraphale had caught his stare. "So where's your car? In the back orrr?" Crowley's head tilted as the question rolled off his tongue.

"Car? No, I walked here, I don't live far from here, makes it simpler if there is traffic." Aziraphale bent down, picking up his violin case and belongings.

"Oh well shit, want a ride to the club? Walking really isn't an option from here." Crowley looked on seeing Aziraphale try and hide the smile, but his eyes betrayed them lighting up at the offer. Crowley chuckled and turned to go. "Come on, Angel, let's go."

Aziraphale nodded and hopped down from the stage, catching up behind Crowley, but not without a full scan from Crowleys copper hair to his black snakeskin boots. Anathema watched Aziraphale's head tilt as he looked over Crowley. Chuckling to herself as seeing the entirety of Aziraphale's scan.

Crowley felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, the heat of the glance behind him was palpable, but he was not about to say anything. Crowley's face changed fifty shades of red at that moment, almost coming to a complete stop, he pushed himself forward. Anathema opened the door, and the group walked out.

"Where's your car?" Aziraphale asked as Crowley stepped up to his Bentley and opened the door for Aziraphale.

Aziraphale stopped, looking from the car to Crowley. How could a vehicle be so perfect a match as this was? The Bentley, stylish, sleek, black, and yet as Aziraphale continued to look between them, the car was, in fact, Crowley. Crowley's blush slowly started to reappear under the gaze of Aziraphale's blue eyes. Crowley cleared his throat as he held the door open.

"Get in, Angel." Crowley bowed slightly in jest, though as Aziraphale stepped past him, Crowley's eyes quickly took in Aziraphale.

The door was closed behind Aziraphale, turning in his seat as Crowley climbed in. Crowley glanced to his side as Aziraphale leaned over into the back seat, a single bare sliver of pale skin opened up. Crowley wanted to reach over and touch the bared skin as Aziraphale placed his belongings in the back seat, reaching just a touch further back, opening the area of skin to Crowley even more.

Crowley tore his gaze off the flesh that he would have liked very much to touch and feel the warmth under his fingertips. Gripping the steering wheel, clenching his teeth for a mere moment as Aziraphale slid back into his seat with a smile that was meant for only angels to bestow upon people, took Crowley's breath from him.

"All set Crowley! So to the club then?" Aziraphale asked with so much life, so much happiness that Crowley could only nod.

Aziraphale fixed his seatbelt, the Bentley roared to life, Anathema beeped behind them. Pulling Crowley out of his stupor, his foot pressed the gas, and the car lurched forward tires spinning as they slid out of the parking lot. Aziraphale's hand banged up into the roof of the vehicle as his other slammed the dashboard as Crowley unexpectedly decided to give Aziraphale a ride he wouldn't forget.

Aziraphale glanced over, trying to see the speedometer and gasped as he read the gauge.

"Crowley!! Slow down! You can't do ninety in the middle of town!!" Aziraphale gasped out as they took a corner the car leaning far too hard into it.

Crowley's hands left the steering as he turned to look at Aziraphale. "Why not?" Crowley grinned, pushing the pedal down further, causing Aziraphale's hands to bolt themselves to the roof of the car.

Aziraphale had all but forgotten to breathe during the car ride to the club, but as the neon lights lit up the car Crowley slowed, pulling into his spot. The vehicle stopped, and Aziraphale panted out a few breathes, finally letting go of his death grip on the car. Turning his head, Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who was far more than pleased with himself smirking back at Aziraphale.

Crowley hopped out of the car and looked back at Aziraphale, who had gotten out and was straighten his bits and bobs out. Anathema pulled in next to them, frowning at Crowley as she got out of the car, watching Crowley as she walked by gave him a playful slap on his arm.

"You are insane Crowley, but let's go!!" Anathema pulled on the two dragging them behind her as she went in.

Crowley waved at the bouncer, who stepped aside, opening the door for the group. Anathema spotted Micheal right away, who ran over to them. Crowley looked up at his empty booth, smiling he started to head towards it, but as he went to go past Aziraphale, he looked down as he felt fingers slightly tighten within his own fingers.

Aziraphale looked down at the same moment, a blush simply appeared across Aziraphale's face as neither man had realized they were both holding onto to the other. Anathema smirked, seeing the two, she and Micheal walked to go get drinks, leaving the two on the dance floor. Quickly Aziraphale let go of Crowley's hand, clearing his throat. Crowley smiled, looking at flustered blue eyes.

"Be right back, Angel, hey, where's your violin?" Crowley looked down at Aziraphale's empty hands.

"Oh, well, fuck." Aziraphale frowned, Crowley just stood there for a moment looking at an angel who cursed. Being rather impressed at the curse, Crowley shook his head.

"Don't worry about it for now, just enjoy the night then." Crowley turned and went to his booth, the music changing up just as quickly.

Aziraphale walked over to Anathema and Micheal, who were both deep in a conversation about absolutely nothing at all. Easy enough for Aziraphale to join into the conversation taking the proffered drink and downing it. Both Micheal and Anathema looked on, impressed with how shittily Aziraphale was at not being able to hide his current thought.

One simply needed to follow Aziraphale's line of sight to know where his thoughts were. Aziraphale watched Crowley up in his booth, falling into where he ruled everything, every note, every tempo was his and his alone. Aziraphale couldn't help himself as he smiled, impressed with how Crowley handled, well everything.

Looking out over the dance floor, people were dancing, hopping, lights suddenly started to beam, and move through the crowd as Crowley flipped switches and changed the music. Aziraphale, Micheal, and Anathema all went out to the dance floor, the music lured them out.

Crowley followed Aziraphale with his eyes as he mixed the music, getting the beat perfect. Watching Aziraphale was becoming a hidden past time that Crowley was thoroughly enjoying. Aziraphale had spun his way onto the dance floor with Anathema being spun along with him. The group made it to the front, the speakers drowning out everything else as they danced.

Anathema looked up at Crowley, another song being mixed in, the beat dropped, and Micheal pulled Aziraphale up against him, followed by Anathema. Micheal was dancing up against Aziraphale, sliding Aziraphale hands up and over his neck and intertwining them. Micheal danced against Aziraphale's back as Anathema was dancing in front of Aziraphale.

Crowley's eyes widened behind his shades. An irritation crawled up his spine, watching. Aziraphale spun around facing Micheal, Anathema moving up behind Aziraphale, his hands sliding down the sides of Anathema. Micheal was all too happy about sliding a leg between Aziraphales legs, the group was still dancing. Crowley growled to himself as he watched.

That was his angel, how dare, Crowley didn't even realize his thoughts for a moment. It was when Micheal grinned up at Crowley, pulling Aziraphale just that much closer did Crowley take himself into account. What was this, Crowley wasn't jealous of anything, ever, especially not dancing. Why was this bothering him so much?

Crowley shook his head clear of thoughts, waving to the bouncer, Crowley whispered into his ear. With a nod, the bouncer left the area, coming back a few minutes later, carrying Aziraphale's violin case with the utmost care and handing it up to Crowley. The group was still dancing, Micheal quite possibly enjoying Aziraphale more than he should.

The bouncer pushed his way through the crowd coming to stand next to Aziraphale, tapping him on the shoulder. Crowley watched as the bouncer pointed up to Crowley, seeing and following Aziraphale's eyes as they looked up to Crowley. Holding the violin case up, Crowley waved Aziraphale up.

Aziraphale followed the bouncer who cleared the way, helping him up onto the stage next to the DJ booth. Crowley waved Aziraphale closer, which with hands outstretched for his violin Aziraphale did.

"Pick something, Angel," Crowley called out to him, barely louder than the music.

"Fur Elise?" Aziraphale looked hopefully on at Crowley, who nodded.

Lights dimmed to the club being pitched into darkness. A resounding gasp from the crowd came and went as a single light directly in front of the DJ booth was lit. Piano from the speakers came on, then a single violin, the dance floor was silent as they listened. A beat, bass, the sound of a violin singing above it all, and then Crowley took over the tempo turning Aziraphale in his place.

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, watching the way his body moved, learning how to read any changes that were coming up and before either of them knew, music was flowing from them. A battle of music, then when it would seem as though the music shouldn't be played, the two intertwined their music.

Aziraphale and Crowley played for the crowd as the music poured out, into and around everyone the crowd started to applaud, and just as fast as the song began, it slowly came to an end with only a violin closing the music. The crowd cheered them on, asking for another song to be played. Crowley looked at Aziraphale, who was smiling, looking up at Crowley.

Crowley realized that as he looked down at Aziraphale, he was waiting for Crowley to set and pick the next song. Aziraphale was looking to Crowley to lead, set the pace, set the tempo, find and select the music that they would both play together.

The rest of the night was filled with Crowley DJ'ing or a combination of Aziraphale and Crowley playing together. It was the time of Aziraphale's life; he was being allowed to play his violin the way he wanted, being lead by Crowley, who, if you had asked Aziraphale, Crowley could lead him anywhere. The last song came to an end, the crowd left, and Aziraphale found himself sitting at the bar, just a smidge more than tipsy.

Crowley finished packing up his gear and came to sit next to Aziraphale. Looking over Aziraphale smiled, he was sitting on cloud nine, everything was perfect.

"Well, that was something, angel." Crowley beamed from behind his glasses.

Aziraphale nodded, looking over Crowley Aziraphale went to ask a question when Micheal popped his head back into the club.

"Aziraphale, you coming? Anathema is waiting." Micheal frowned for a moment before Aziraphale stood up, looking back at Crowley.

"Guess that's my ride, we should do this more often." Aziraphale hid the disappointment in his tone but picked up his violin.

"I'd like that. Maybe practice something?" Crowley stood, taking a step towards Aziraphale.

"That'd be absolutely ticketyboo." Aziraphale wrote down his address for Crowley and turned walking out of the club.

Micheal looked back at Crowley, smirking. Crowley had never wanted to wipe a smile on someone's face as much as he did that moment. Looking down at the handwritten address, Crowley couldn't help but smile, who really wrote down addresses or phone numbers anymore, but in his hand was just that. An angel's phone number and address.


	4. Music of Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day that Aziraphale has to do  
> his own thing, when and unexpected  
> a knock comes to his door.
> 
> Music and love abound to  
> out to Ineffable Idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just Fluff  
> Our two resident Ineffable Idiots  
> are being just that!!
> 
> Longing, Wanting, and a feeling that  
> slowly is growing!
> 
> Thank you my beta for gleefully going over this!!  
> Lucifer @Venusismystar

**Chapter 4**

_Music of Heaven and Hell_

**https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4iKqioQu1Jme2TFIZd0Ft1**

Aziraphale woke the following morning as sunlight filtered in through the sheer white curtains of his room. Still smiling from the night before, he turned his head, looking over at the clock; it was early. Ten o'clock in the morning early, but still early, Aziraphale chuckled to himself. There was a reason he slept in a bit, a few drinks, a little dancing, and playing music...., with him. Playing what he yearned to play and, of course, Crowley.

Aziraphale realized that he also found himself yearning for Crowley, wanting to touch his hair, touch him. A need was growing, forming, his mind toiling over feelings in his heart being nurtured..., for him. Rolling onto his back, Aziraphale sighed, as a longing formed in the pit of his stomach, still thinking of Crowley.

Closing his eyes, Aziraphale could hear the music from the night before. Letting his mind wander even further, he could see the curls of red hair that framed his face and slid down and over Crowley's shoulders, lit up by the lights that bounced and played within Crowleys beats, the way the bass thumped through his body, only being matched by the beating of his own heart every time Crowley looked his way or at every word that Crowley spoke sent chills through him.

Aziraphale sighed to himself again. He thought of himself, a besotted fool, but today he had for himself, no rehearsals, no Gabriel, just the sounds of the lake, the breeze, and his violin, maybe a touch of his keyboard. Today Aziraphale could play what he wanted. The sun filtering in decidedly told Aziraphale that it was going to be a wonderful day.

Rolling out of his bed, Aziraphale opened the windows letting the breeze flow through his cottage. Grabbing a towel and some comfortable clothes, clothes that he only wore at home when he would be alone, he headed in for the shower. Turning on the water, letting it warm before dropping his clothes and stepping in.

Aziraphale started to hum to himself a new song he was thinking of, different ways to play the violin, faster, better. Not being able to help himself, Aziraphales talented mind started to play a beat somewhere in the back of his thoughts, not his own but a rhythm played by a DJ, one that had caught his attention and refused to let go.

Letting the warm water flow over his head, Aziraphale pulling the elastic from the back, letting his curls wash out under the water, drowning out any other sounds from the lake, Aziraphale pictured Crowley, could hear his music, feel his beat. None of this was helpful; Aziraphale was sure that Crowley probably had someone, how could he not, and with a moment of doubt, Aziraphale wrote himself off of ever having anything like that, but he still let his mind wander.

What would Crowley feel like, taller than Aziraphale by a few inches? Aziraphale smiled, wondering what it would feel like to be under the control of him. Smiling as his thoughts brought him to think of being pinned up against the wall, looking up at him, and those sunglasses. Aziraphale decided then that the sunglasses were something that Crowley was never without, but why?

A question never to be answered, at least not to him. Still, he could look, could imagine, but his heart thumping expressed more than what he was willing to accept. Aziraphale sighed, finished his shower, and stepped out. Aziraphale wrapped the towel around his waist and started to shake out his wet curls with his hands, finally letting them settle against his face and barely touching his shoulders...

Walking to his kitchen Aziraphale started the kettle for tea, proceeding into his living room and flipping a few switches. A beat started, nothing too much but enough that he could feel it. Picking up his favorite violin Aziraphale smiled, pure white with clear LED lights filling the sections, the violin lit up like a golden halo, his bow followed, at his touch, the color of flames erupted as soon as the bow slid over the strings.

Aziraphale may have been in his towel, but he was home alone, and the tea was on; playing would calm him, maybe take some of his frustration away. Crowley seemed to be able to get tangled in Aziraphale's thoughts, feelings, and if he admitted to himself, want. The more Aziraphale thought, the faster his fingers went, playing a song that was his own.

Letting his mind wander, soft red curls floated through. Letting his eyes close, feeling the music Aziraphale played faster, never missing a string, his bow sliding over the taut strings, singing feelings that he refused to let himself contemplate. Outside, a car had pulled up to the address that Aziraphale had written down the night before.

Crowley stopped and sat in his car for a few moments debating whether he should get out or not. Aziraphale had given him the address and his phone number, but maybe he should have called first. Crowley shut off the Bentley, the windows down, and then Crowley heard it, flowing from the cottage's open windows.

Music.

Stepping out, Crowley quietly made his way to one of the windows that the music was pouring out of. The curtains were drawn, but as light as they were, the breeze was blowing them inward, letting him see somewhat within the cottage; the violin's light caught Crowley's attention as it cast reflections of light against Aziraphale's bared skin.

Crowley stayed silent; the music that poured from Aziraphales violin was nothing less than extraordinary. Quietly Crowley watched and listened, watched how Aziraphale's fingers slide down the violin's neck, amazed at how his fingers moved, plucking the strings never pulling an unneeded note.

Crowley started to be able to hear a beat, making the violin play within his own music. Faster, Aziraphale played, and then in his mind, Crowley added in the bass. Hearing it flawlessly, perfectly hearing the music they could make and the beauty that Aziraphale could play. The way the music danced around Crowley, he stood listening, imagining.

It was then that Crowley took in the rest of Aziraphale as the curtain was blown up and further into the cottage. Wet platinum blonde hair was slightly stuck here and there to pale skin, bobbing around Aziraphale's face and shoulders like a halo being lit by the violin and the bow that cast flames of light over Aziraphale as he played. Crowley's eyes drifted down over a pale yet strong back and then stopped at the towel's top.

Crowley swallowed, taking in that even though he could see Aziraphale was strong, he still was soft around the edges. Not being able to stop his smile, he still stayed silent, slowly backing away from the window. Crowley headed for the door to knock. Crowley had every intention of waiting and watching, but he felt as though he was seeing far more than anyone would be allowed to see of this Angel.

Still, Crowley stood near the front door, listening as the music poured out of the cottage as though an angel played for God herself. Crowley had never heard anyone play like Aziraphale. It was unique. It was his own, and Crowley wanted to hear more, wanted to be part of the music Aziraphale created. Crowley wanted to be part of him.

More than anything that he could or would ever have, Crowley thought to himself, being part of Aziraphale in any way was a privilege. Crowley listened to the pulling of strings, the slide of Aziraphale's flaming bow over his heavenly violin, Crowley would somehow be part of it.

Crowley stood a moment longer listening to a violin sing as an angel played. Wondering why he even thought for a moment that someone with that much talent would look at him in any way, to Crowley, he was simply playing other peoples music in better ways, Aziraphale was creating his own.

Aziraphale heard the kettle start to whistle, and just as fast as he was playing, it came to an end. Tea was a priority; that much was sure, and continuing to think of Crowley was not helping his current state of frustration. Picking up his winged mug, Aziraphale put in his tea leaves, picked up the kettle, and poured the hot water over them.

It was then that the knock came from his front door, causing him to jump, almost knocking his violin from the counter. Quickly turning his head, reaching down, and grabbing hold of the top of the towel that he almost lost, Aziraphale headed for the door, he could peek out and see who was there.

Slightly irritated, no one should be at his house. It was his day off. Stopping for a moment, his hand at the doorhandle Aziraphale debated. What if it was Gabriel? He wasn't in the mood, starting to tiptoe back away from the door, Aziraphale heard the voice, his voice.

"Aziraphale, you going to open up? I heard you playing!" Silken, smooth, Crowleys voice ran down Aziraphale's spine far more desirable than he wanted to admit. "Come on, Angel, open up!" Aziraphale rested his head against the door for a minute before opening it, calming his breathing that had quickened just by the sound of Crowley's voice, the way he called him ~Angel.~.

Crowley was about to knock again with the hopes of getting Aziraphale to open up, but when the door did open, there was far more of Aziraphale presented than he thought. Disheveled wet platinum curls swayed with the tilt of Aziraphale's head, a hand holding up a towel and nothing else covered, well this was a switch. Crowley was thanking God herself for wearing his sunglasses as his eyes did a full scan from the top of Aziraphale's wet hair to his very bare, freckled shoulders; a grin crawled across Crowley's face as he took in some soft bits and then down bared legs to his bare feet.

Aziraphale could feel that he was just thoroughly looked over and suddenly felt completely naked. Tightening his hands on the towel, Aziraphale took a step back, seeing the grin that had taken residence on Crowley's face.

"I, well...give me a minute." Aziraphale all but stuttered out before turning and heading for his bedroom.

Crowley couldn't move his feet. He simply nodded for a moment as he took in Aziraphale's bareness as he turned to head away. Aziraphale was thoroughly flustered and blushing furiously as he hurriedly headed for his bedroom for clothing.

"So, can I come in orrr." Crowley grinned, slowly taking a step inside the cottage. "Kinda funny, innit!"

"What pray tell are you on about?" Aziraphale called from his bedroom, quickly throwing on whatever he had pulled out and frowning at himself as he looked in the mirror. Trying his best to pull back his unruly curls, something he usually had very hidden, this was not acceptable. The man of his attention was now in his house, and he was wearing this. Sighing in defeat, he looked in the mirror and tried to fluff his hair, no use.

"Well, I guess fair is fair, I mean when you came knocking at my door, well I was without attire as well." Crowley grinned wickedly, feeling the silence coming from what he assumed was Aziraphale's bedroom at the far end of the house.

Aziraphale flushed an even deeper shade of red as the thought of Crowley wearing nothing but a towel resurfaced in full detail. Oh, this was not the way this was supposed to go, Aziraphale figured at most that Crowley would call, or not at all. Maybe call to see if he wanted to play again at the club, but here was Crowley in his house, looking him over and commenting on it.

With a sigh, Aziraphale took in his appearance once more, slightly disappointed, wholly giving up on taming his curls. Crowley turned around as Aziraphale made his way back to his living room, shutting off the beat that was continuing in the background. Looking over at Crowley, Aziraphale was still blushing, a sunset of colors over the bridge of his nose made Crowley smile.

Crowley took in the view that was Aziraphale. Curls slightly wet, still framing his face tickling at the tops of his shoulders, further down a winged light blue teeshirt that somehow complimented his shape, soft yet making Crowley's fingers itch to touch. Further down, loose beige cotton pants and bare feet, try as he might, Crowley smiled, seeing the wings, admittedly liking what he saw. Aziraphale was an adonis of just the right proportions.

Clearing his throat, Crowley stepped into the cottage now that Aziraphale was present.

"I was getting a tea, can I get anything for you, tea, coffee, maybe coco?" Aziraphale disappeared into his kitchen with Crowley slowly following behind him.

Taking in Aziraphale's cottage Crowley smiled; it was quaint; it was comfortable, plush yet somehow very soft, somehow very Aziraphale. The cottage seemed to sing the praises of its owner. Crowley noticed a few rooms off the kitchen, one which he assumed was Aziraphales bedroom that he had disappeared into to sadly get clothed and two others.

"I'd love a coffee, please!" Crowley chimed out, tilting his head, trying to take in the rest of the house, not going unnoticed by Aziraphale.

Reaching up, Aziraphale went to grab another mug, somehow white-winged mugs were not Crowley, looking he picked out the only black mug he had, and brought it down to the counter, started to make a coffee.

"What do you take in your coffee?" Aziraphale inquired, making sure not to look back at Crowley, still trying to relieve himself of the blush that decidedly took residence on his face.

"Oh, nothing, black and bitter like my soul!" Crowley chuckled out his response seeing that Aziraphale wasn't looking back at him.

"So, the room to the right is my library, in the middle is my bedroom, and to the left is, well, I am trying to make a wine cellar kind of room. Oh, and the bathroom is off the living room." Aziraphale finished making the coffee and placed it on the table in front of Crowley.

Aziraphale watched as Crowley picked up the cup, caught the tilt of Crowley's head that told him he was being looked at again. Once again, that same sunset of colors graced the bridge of Aziraphale's nose. Flushing brightly, Aziraphale turned and walked out the sliding doors to what he had called a ~garden.~

Crowley followed and was crushed by the term ~garden~ as he looked around. Leaving the cottage, Crowley stopped and looked around. Shaking his head, he went to sit next to Aziraphale at a Victorian-style table and chairs, placed lovingly in the middle of the gazebo. Other than that, the plants were overgrown here and there. Flowerbeds with no flowers or overgrown were scattered about.

Aziraphale could tell Crowley was looking around his garden. It wasn't as though he had been here long, but he felt guilty about it.

"I haven't really had much time to work very much in here, and, if I am honest, I don't have a much of a good green thumb." Aziraphale looked into his cup of tea.

Crowley smirked at the admittance of his non-green thumb, chuckling to himself just slightly. "I could help you with this, you know, happen to be rather good at getting things to grow."

Aziraphale looked up from his mug. With a tilt of his head, Crowley was blessed with a brilliant smile.

"Would you? If it's not too much to ask, of course." Aziraphale was still smiling, as Crowley looked at him. Between the smile and the acceptance of an offer that Crowley hadn't expected to be taken, had his breath taken away, Aziraphale was beautiful.

Crowley simply nodded and quickly downed half his coffee even though it was too hot. Crowley needed something to snap his mind out of where it was, something he hadn't felt in a long time for anyone, hope.

Aziraphale sipped at his tea, the awkwardness was palpable, and the air was heavy with something neither would admit nor press into. Crowley looked out at the water, boats were going by, and then he remembered he had brought his Launchpad with him, to try and maybe get Aziraphale to play a song with him.

"Oh, hey, would you like to play some music with me?" Crowley looked over the rim of his mug as he took yet another gulp of coffee, half expecting to be turned down.

"Really? You brought your stuff here? Now?" Aziraphale sat straighter in his chair. The thought of playing without an entire club full of people, just Crowley, was more than he could have hoped for. Wiggle.

"Yeah, it's in the car. I'll go grab it; meet you inside then?" Crowley stood placing his mug down, looking down at Aziraphale and the beaming smile that he was being graced with, he found he could only nod and head off to get the gear.

Aziraphale grabbed the mugs and quickly went inside his cottage. Mugs were forgotten in the kitchen, violin in hand, Aziraphale checked his speakers, hooking up into one and leaving Crowley the others to hook into for his music. Aziraphale couldn't help the wiggle that escaped his being at the thought of playing with Crowley, alone.

Crowley made it to his car, opening the door, reaching in, he took a deep breath to calm his breathing. This was not how he honestly expected any of this to go. Nothing he offered was refused. Instead, it was taken, accepted, and much to Crowley's surprise, happily, expectantly.

Crowley rested his forehead on the doorframe for a moment longer holding his equipment, trying to think if he had everything, taking a moment to breathe. With his gear in hand and using his hip to close the door, he turned around, looking at the cottage. If anyone had asked him or told him this is where he would have been a month ago, he would have laughed in their face.

Aziraphale's head popped out the front door, looking for Crowley. Taking note of how much Crowley was wrestling with, he smirked to himself.

"You need help out there? I'm all set in here!" Aziraphale was still smiling; Crowley wasn't sure his heart could take this.

"Nope." Crowley popped his ~P~ trying to hide any emotion that might escape at this moment. Instead, he hurried a bit and got inside the house.

Aziraphale pointed over to where the speakers were. Crowley first noticed where the electric violin was plugged into a neon speaker, which was the flames' color, matching the bow that Crowley had seen Aziraphale play with from the window.

Then as if Aziraphale knew how many speakers and hookups he would need, Crowley counted three speakers. All empty and apparently for him to hookup into. Smiling, Crowley peered over the rim of his glasses at the speakers. From the side, Aziraphale watched and caught sight of gold from behind those glasses.

Beautiful.

Looking around, Crowley noticed he had forgotten his keyboard; Aziraphale saw him looking for something.

"Do you need anything?" Aziraphale asked as he finished a quick scale of notes, making sure he was in tune.

"Ngk...I forgot my keyboard." Crowley looked up from the speaker he had finished hooking into.

"Over there, you can use mine, it's already hooked up, but do what you need to." Aziraphale grinned, pointing towards the keyboard with his flaming bow.

Crowley followed the line of where Aziraphale was pointing, there on the far wall was a beautiful keyboard. Almost saying he couldn't use that, it had to be beyond expensive, Crowley found he couldn't say no; he wanted to play with that keyboard. It was beautiful, it was Aziraphale's, and if Aziraphale's fingers played that keyboard the way he played the violin, Crowley wanted to be part of it.

A few moments later, everything was ready to go, and Aziraphale's angelic bastard side powered up and kicked into gear as Crowley looked at him.

"So, can you play that keyboard? Anything classical?" Aziraphale chided Crowley, a grin on Aziraphale's face that could have melted the ice caps, pulled a wicked grin at Crowley's return look.

"Oh, well aren't you a bit of a bastard, didn't see that coming, Angel! Try and keep up, will you." Crowley's grin sent a shiver down Aziraphale's spine. The fact that Crowley called him Angel made it even worse.

Aziraphale watched as curls were pulled out of Crowley's face, his fingers tightened around the violin's neck. A singular strangled squeak came from Aziraphales speaker; Crowley's head snapped up and looked over, without a word, he watched that sunset appear on Aziraphale's face. Despite wanting to sigh, or reach out and touch that blush, Crowley instead gave a wickedly disarming grin.

A flip of a switch and Crowley's gear came to life. Humming through the speakers as Crowley switched buttons and found his sound, the sound he needed for the keyboard, a sound that blended with whatever beat he was going to play. Testing beats, bass, and every other sound that Crowley had recorded and made was done, and with that, Crowley looked up giving a nod.

A final flip of a switch, the hum of the speakers and Crowley's fingers went to work, playing a quick scale on the keyboard. One last wicked grin at Aziraphale as his fingers went up and down the keyboard, Crowley smirked.

"Show off..." Aziraphale teased as he watched.

"Never...!" With that, Crowley went to work, and  
Fur Elise' played from the speakers.

Aziraphale just watched, listened in amazement. So Crowley could play instruments, and play them very well, along with all the DJ equipment, Aziraphale was far more than impressed. Crowley's hair fell over his shoulders as he looked down at what he was doing.

Concentration.

Aziraphale just stood there, he watched Crowley, took him in...beautiful. Without noticing, Aziraphale pulled his lower lip with his teeth and held it there. Entranced by what Crowley was doing with a classical piece that Gabriel had all but forbidden it to be played any other way than the original, Aziraphale was held his breath.

Finally, retaking a breath and releasing his lower lip, Aziraphale felt that knot in his stomach settle in. Growing exponentially the longer Crowley played, he needed Crowley, wanted him.

As Crowley finished playing, shaded eyes looked up at Aziraphale, standing somewhat still with a smirk he didn't even know was there. Crowley cleared his throat and pointed at Aziraphale to start playing something.

"Your turn Angel, I'll see if I can come in with something to match you." Crowley cleared his board and loaded in the basics to one Launchpad, only to load in something else to the other.

Aziraphale lifted the bow to rest under his chin, lifting his bow, nimble fingers started to pluck notes. Crowley realized Aziraphale was giving him the key that the song was going to be played in; with a quick adjustment, Crowley nodded, the bow touched the strings as Aziraphale caressed the bow.

In between, the bow's loving caress on the strings was Aziraphale's ability to staccato any note, at his whim. Crowley's beat came in, matching Aziraphale, letting him lead the music, Crowley followed. Watching this angel play without everyone being around them was no less than stunning. Aziraphale was stunning.

Crowley almost stopped playing his end of the song as unbeknownst to him, Aziraphales ability to make his violin sound as though three were playing at once amazed him. Crowley had to look up to see for himself that there indeed wasn't more than one violin playing. No one else, just his beautiful Angel, Crowley bit the inside of his mouth, realizing he had referred to Aziraphale as his Angel, he had to make sure that little endearment didn't slip out.

Slowly Crowley followed Aziraphale as the song came to an end; Crowley just stared for a moment; Aziraphale looked down, trying to hide the flush that Crowley brought to his face every time he looked over at him. Crowley made a note of that, maybe, just maybe there was something there?

"Okay, Angel, let's try something else, we'll do it one way first, I'm going to record you playing, then we'll do it again, and if it's okay, hook your violin into this launchpad, okay?" Crowley waited, and seeing Aziraphale nod, started a beat. "Play whatever you like, I'll match it. ready?" Again a simple nod.

Crowley started recording, and Aziraphale started to play. Crowley slowly added beats, a tempo, bass that radiated through Aziraphale's chest, mimicking his heartbeat. Aziraphale gave Crowley time to play without his added violin, but Crowley looked up, nodding, and Aziraphale played again.

Crowley was recording Aziraphale's music, taking the sound into memory, and as the song continued, Crowley started to play around with the sound of the violin. Aziraphale looked slightly stunned for a moment, his face lit up as he continued to play. Crowley brought the song to an end and immediately started up again.

Aziraphale watched and started to play when Crowley pointed at him. The violin sounding as though it was part of Crowley's music, not adding in. For the first time in Aziraphale's life, his violin sounded in the right place; it matched; it played and danced within Crowley's talent.

Aziraphale let his eyes shut and started to let himself move with the music as it flowed over and within him. Crowley just watched, listening, and playing with Aziraphale. It was as though the two had been doing this for years together. As though they had practiced, played, and practiced again.

Playing with Aziraphale felt natural; it was right, and somewhere in the pit of Crowley's stomach, a need, a longing took hold and grew.

The song came to an end. Silence filled the cottage, only the light feeling of the hum from speakers that were longing to be heard again. Aziraphale lowered his violin, looking over at Crowley, who stood just as silent.

Unseen shaded eyes peered at Aziraphale from behind sunglasses. Slowly Crowley watched as that sunset crawled over the bridge of Aziraphale's imperfectly perfect nose. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Aziraphale, feel how soft that fluff of platinum hair felt sliding through his fingers.

It was Aziraphale who broke the silence as it slowly was becoming deafening. Knowing he couldn't hide his eyes from Crowley, blue eyes dipped from Crowley's sunglasses to his lips and then back up. Crowley didn't miss the motion that he found mesmerizing.

"So, I, well, that was beautiful. You really are very talented, Crowley. Truly." Aziraphale's voice was less than confident and quiet as he spoke.

"Oh, well, thanks. You're amazing, really, have never heard anyone play like that." Crowley tilted his head, looking at Aziraphale. "Well, I should get going, Angel, have to be at the club early, set back up...kind of took my gear from there this morning." Crowley started to unhook from Aziraphales speakers.

Quietly each man unhooked from speakers that had intertwined their music together, lovingly, longingly. Neither said anything; Crowley finished and looked back at Aziraphale, who was putting his violin carefully back in place.

"You should come tonight, to the club, I'm playing tonight, bring your violin if you have a mind to." Crowley picked up his gear, heading to the door. Aziraphale rushed up to open the door for him.

"I would have helped you with all this, Crowley." Aziraphale reached to take one of the bags from Crowley, fingers brushing over the others, eyes looking up at the other. Aziraphale smiled; Crowley nodded in thanks, neither said anything.

Neither knowing what to say, what was too much, neither sure of the other. Aziraphale waved goodbye as Crowley drove away. Taking his first real breath since they started playing together, Aziraphales hands went to his chest, over his heart, looking at the empty space where a Bentley was just moments ago. Maybe, just maybe...

Crowley flipped on his radio as he drove away, glancing in his rearview mirror, watching as his Angel grew smaller. Reprimanding himself as the feeling in his chest and his stomach took hold of him firmly, Crowley couldn't chase it away, and now with the prospect of Aziraphale coming to the club that night to play, Crowley wondered how much longer he could stay at a distance.

Crowley pulled into The Serpent's Tongue, slowly unloading his car. Humming the songs they played together, Crowley was in a cloud of thought, of want, filled with the thoughts of Aziraphale. Newt tried getting his attention, but he had eyes and thoughts for only one person, and it certainly wasn't Newt.

Crowley stopped and looked into the bluest of skies, that in his humble opinion, didn't compare with his Angel's eyes. Sighing, he silently thanked a god that he figured would never hear him. Bringing in the last piece of gear, Crowley sighed; Aziraphale would be there later, maybe get a drink with him, something.

It was then, as his thoughts carried him away to a happier place than he remembered, Anathema and that guy Michael usually came with them all. The idea of Michael feeling up Aziraphale again to his music, well that wasn't a happy thought; if anything, it dragged a growl from somewhere deep within Crowley.


	5. The Wrong Kind of Archangel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another night at  
> The Serpent's Tongue, though  
> even though beautiful music is  
> played doesn't mean everyone  
> plays fair.
> 
> Aziraphale finds out a carefully  
> kept secret...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note there is alot of fluff..
> 
> TW: A Stolen Kiss is not okay..very brief

**Chapter 5**

_The Wrong Kind of Archangel_

**https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7EnFyCpB0D0rzNDOrrHod7**

Crowley had just finished putting his booth together, though he would never tell Aziraphale just what a pain in the ass it absolutely was. To Crowley, at that moment, it was worth every wire, every speaker adjustment, every sound that he needed to go over, making sure it was working, and connected.

Crowley flipped switches that made his booth come to life; a beat started. Lights danced over the stage, a bass beat kicked in that matched his own heart's beating, feeling the thrumming in his chest as he thought of Aziraphale.

Crowley hopped down from the booth, pushing the baby grand from the side of the club's stage to the center floor. Sitting at the piano, Crowley tested all eighty-eight of the Young Changs ebony and ivory keys, perfect.

With a stretch of Crowleys delicately nimble fingers, he started playing. In Crowley's head, he could hear Aziraphale play his violin alongside his own music.

Thoughts of his star-filled blue eyes and platinum curls bouncing back and forth as Crowley's music flowed. The music of Aziraphale's bow sliding over his violin's strings echoed in Crowley's mind; he could hear it, feel it.

Crowley was still riding a high from playing with Aziraphale; Crowley let his talent show without knowing. Crowley played the piano as though it were an attachment, a part of him, sounding like he had been playing for years, scales, and chords flowing from him; it was beauty incarnate.

Newt was blessed; he knew it; he was one of the few to hear Crowley play the piano from years before and even now. Newt knew how expertly Crowley could play. Even he had to stop at times to listen when Crowley was either feeling really good or just needed to play. Newt listened. Crowley's playing was distinctive; this was unconventional music that was being created by him.

Newt only watched Crowley for a few moments; he knew when to move on. Newt could tell that Crowley was lost in the music; it had been ages since Crowley had been this deep in playing. The last time Newt could remember Crowley playing like this, the way he loved too, was before Gabriel had crushed any dream Crowley ever had of playing.

Newt clearly remembered when that happened.

Crowley wanted to play a different type of music, a mix of classical, with his own touch of how he would DJ. One cursed night, Crowley had played at The Serpent's Tongue, the crowd adored the music, though in the back of the club was Gabriel.

Gabriel decided what was and wasn't allowed to be played, and even though it was on Crowley's own time, Gabriel fired him the next day. Going so far as to make sure he sullied Crowley's name in any field of music

Only Crowley knew what was said, and an entire orchestra, but Crowley stopped playing for a year. Then Newt came in one day early and found Crowley playing; he said nothing but went about his duties. Newt had never brought up Crowleys playing; he knew enough.

Newt could feel it in the music that was being played; there was passion, a love, and a need behind it. More of Crowley was being played; something had brought him out in his playing, or someone. This was less of a recorded sound; this was Crowley. Newt noticed the door was slightly open; he walked over to close it. It was too early, but as he reached for the door, Aziraphale slipped in.

Holding his violin case, the music slammed into him, and he found he had lost the ability to move his feet; instead, he turned towards the music being played. Not really knowing what to expect, Aziraphale fully turned away from Newt, who now was standing next to him. All Aziraphale could see and hear was Crowley.

Aziraphale had a feeling Crowley was far more talented than he was letting on; it was a feeling. He was right, but this was beyond what Aziraphale had thought. His heart banged against his ribs as the music ran over him, through him, taking any breath from him.

Aziraphale could only stand there listening, feeling that knot in his stomach take hold of his spine; Aziraphale was amazed and in love but didn't know it. Newt stood there, finally having to wave his hand in front of Aziraphale's face, causing him to start. Aziraphale angrily turned to look at Newt and put his finger in front of his mouth, shushing him.

Hugging his violin case closer to his chest, Aziraphale turned all his attention back to Crowley as he played. Continuing to watch Crowley quickened Aziraphale's breathing; with each new chord, Aziraphales breath would hitch, his heart beating at a breakneck speed. The lights from the stage caressed and lit up Crowley's face, through his hair, beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale was finally able to find his feet walking up onto the stage in front of Crowley. Mesmerized by the lights that cascaded like stars falling around Crowley, Aziraphale held his violin just a smidge tighter to his chest.

Anathema was peeking in through the door, trying to see what was going on. Pushing past Newt, with a wink and a smile, Anathema caught the look from Aziraphale's blue eyes. The way that he looked at Crowley as though he were the only person in the world right then, Anathema saw it.

The music came to an end as Aziraphale felt eyes on him, feeling a smidge guilty for listening when he wasn't sure that Crowley wanted anyone to know he could play like that. Aziraphale awkwardly held up his violin case, only to get that disarmingly wicked grin, a feeling of nervousness, and a wave to bring it up to the booth.

Aziraphale made his way to the booth with Crowley, still, in awe of Crowley, words escaped him. Crowley looked down at Aziraphale, that grin still there, though even in the darkened club, Aziraphale could swear there was a blush across Crowley's face. Tightening his grip on his violin case, trying to keep his hands in check, oh how he wanted to touch the blush.

"Well, you're early!" Crowley tilted his head, looking at Aziraphale.

"Well, yes, rather, I was able to get a ride," Aziraphale answered breathlessly as he pointed towards the door where Newt was trying to keep Anathema and Michael at bay.

Crowley was more than happy about Aziraphale being here, Anathema maybe, but Michael, that was something else. Newt looked up at Crowley, who waved them in; Aziraphale watched Crowley and could swear he saw Crowley's entire body roll his eyes at Michael.

Aziraphale smiled at the thought; maybe he could hope, maybe there was something there. Crowley only caught the tail end of Aziraphale's smile, but it still made his breath hitch. Crowley tapped Aziraphale on the shoulder...

"Do you want to hook up and play something before we open? Just in case you feel like playing later, you'll be ready?" Crowley waited for an answer as Aziraphale looked at his violin case, a smile slinked across his face, opening the case and pulling out a perfectly clear violin.

Crowley tilted his head as he watched Aziraphale hook the violin into the speaker in the front. There was no wire, only a small dongle that slid in; as soon as the violin chimed, it lit up. Crowley hadn't noticed that Aziraphale left his hair basically down. A few curls pulled back, some unruly curls framed his face in the darkened club. Crowley could swear he saw glitter on Aziraphale's face; it had to be Anathema.

Glancing over towards the other two, Anathema was glitterized from head to toe just as he thought. Sparkling with diamonds she had placed on herself, Crowley could tell she was definitely ready to dance, chuckling. As his attention was brought back to Aziraphale playing, the lights danced off Aziraphale's face. Glitter of all colors lit up from the corners of Aziraphale's eyes back into his curls. Anathema had a hand in that. Still...

Beautiful.

Golds and whites lit up Aziraphale's violin; Watching as the curls around Aziraphale head turned into a halo of colors. Raising his bow, slowly dragging it over the strings, flaming color erupted along the bow's back. Starting to play, Crowley was unable to keep his eyes from Aziraphale, as he played, turning into an angel.

Anathema was flirting with Newt, and as the music started, she turned her attention to the stage. Michael was already front and center of the stage, watching Aziraphale as he played; Crowley narrowed his eyes; he didn't like how Michael observed his angel. Crowley wondered for only a moment when he had basically claimed Aziraphale; it was then that his brain decidedly reminded him of ~His Angel.~

Crowley sighed but continued to play, looking towards his angel, he sucked in a breath realizing that Aziraphale had turned towards him, looking directly at him as he played. Crowley glanced with a satisfied grin just past his angel at Michael, who was getting no attention. Just maybe there was hope, maybe there was something there.

As the song came to an end, Aziraphale walked up to the booth, needing someplace safe to put down his violin. Crowley had already opened the case for Aziraphale. Looking up, Aziraphale mouthed a ~Thank you~ to Crowley, his voice escaped him this close to Crowley.

Crowley reached down without thinking and moved a perfect curl from in front of Aziraphale's eyes, tucking it behind his ear. Neither noticed when the moment started; it felt right, then as blue eyes met Crowley's shaded, Aziraphale leaned up as Crowley lowered his head, tilting it to the side.

Michael's voice suddenly broke the moment.

"Hey Azira, you coming? Anathema got us drinks!" Crowley took his hand back, looking between his fingers, barely seeing the blush as Aziraphale hurried away to the little group, Michael, in tow.

Aziraphale discovered quickly that he couldn't breathe, his spine was on fire, and everything in him wanted to go back. Crowley sat behind his booth on the floor, growling out mumbles and, more than likely, many curses looking at his fingers that touched the softest of hair. Hope he thought, maybe, Crowley was left with a feeling of need, wanting to pull Aziraphale back to the booth.

Anathema was grinning like a fool having had seen what happened, flicking her eyes at Michael, who seemed far too proud of himself. Standing in front of Aziraphale, she placed her hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly.

"Are you alright, Azira? You seem a bit winded!" Anathema chided him, giving him a little shake for good measure.

"Yes, yup, tickety-boo!" Aziraphale sighed out, looking past Anathema to an empty-looking DJ booth.

Crowley started playing music before Michael could say anything; Newt decidedly opened the doors and let people in; it was close enough to opening hours. This was going to be an exciting night, Newt knew it, especially with Anathema winking at him every now and then.

People filtered into the club; it was Crowley's time to shine, for a while at least before he could get Aziraphale back on the stage to play. Crowley started the music and the dance floor filled; Anathema was the first to start dancing, but not without Aziraphale, who she had her hands wrapped around, pulling him.

Crowley watched as somehow Aziraphale seemed embarrassed about dancing; he kept seeing the turn of Aziraphale's head between Anathema and himself. Crowley spun his music with a chuckle, his headphones only half on as he listened, Anathema bouncing and dancing, pulling. Then much to Crowley's distaste, Michael pulled Aziraphale to him and started dancing.

There was no distinction than any other night as Anathema claimed the left side of Aziraphale, and Micheal claimed the right. Crowley didn't miss the grin on Michael's face as he managed to pull Aziraphale and Anathema together; the group dancing with Aziraphale stuck in between them.

Aziraphale started dancing, all be it somewhat uncomfortably, Michael was directly in front of him as they danced. Something had changed; there was something between him and Aziraphale. There was a different dynamic at work. Crowley spun yet another song, feeling a burning in the pit of his stomach, that was his angel.

Watching Micheal slide his hands up and over Aziraphale's shoulders, Crowley gritted his teeth. This was not how this was supposed to go; why was Michael touching Aziraphale, like that. Crowley's eyes narrowed even further as Michael tried to slide his knee between Aziraphales legs.

Crowley wasn't appreciating being forced to watch Michael touch his angel, they were right in front of his booth, and he kept smirking up at Crowley. A challenging smirk at that, Crowley thought to himself ~This can't get any worse.~

Crowley was wrong.

Crowley growled to himself but then as he watched Michael slide his hands up Aziraphale's neck and into Aziraphale's soft curls, that was his angel. Crowley didn't move; he looked at Aziraphale, his eyes scanning over his face, Aziraphales glittery angelic face. The lights lit up Aziraphale's countenance; Crowley saw the moment Aziraphale pulled his head back, away from Michael.

Crowley could feel the uncomfort of his angel, but most of all, Crowley saw when Aziraphale's blue star-filled eyes turned to look up at him. Growling, Crowley quickly switched the music. He couldn't, he wouldn't, do anything stupid; Aziraphale wasn't his, but that look and the way Aziraphale was trying to move away screamed to Crowley's protective side.

Crowley started setting up something else within the booth; with a grin, the keyboard was pulled to the side of Crowley's gear. Aziraphale saw when lights from below lit up Crowley's face, he barely managed to see Crowley's eyes behind the sunglasses. Crowley's mischievous grin was in place; turning his head to look over at Aziraphale, he tilted his head towards the stage.

The nod from Crowley was all Aziraphale needed to wiggle out of the group. Waiting at the stage front, not truly knowing what was going on, he knew he would be playing, Aziraphale waited. Michael came back up behind Aziraphale, trying to ignore him for the moment, the lights went out.

All went quiet in the club. A single light fell upon Crowley, who played the keyboard up in his booth, Fur Elise'. Aziraphale heard the classical piece and pushed Michael into Anathema, jumping up onto the stage, grabbing his violin from the booth. Once again, looking up at Crowley, he beamed an angelic smile, catching Crowley's breath.

Mouthing ~thank you~ to Crowley, Aziraphale went center stage. Lifting his bow into the air and whipping it downward, flames erupted from the bow as a crystal transparent violin was tucked under his chin. Crowley continued to play, Aziraphales hand and fingers wrapped around the violin's neck, pressing down on the strings, the violin lit up.

The crowd cheered at the light display; as Aziraphale started to play, Crowley played with the violin's sounds, changing them, turning them into whatever Crowley wanted them to be, and then he let just the sound of Aziraphale come through. Aziraphale played, needing to match Crowleys music, Anathema looking between the two.

"Idiots..." Anathema whispered to Michael.

Michael turned to look at Anathema, grinning. "You think Anathema, don't really care though, I am having a rather good time with this." Michael laughed as Anathema punched him in the shoulder.

"Leave them be Michael, you need to be careful. I don't think you really want Crowley pissed at you, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his hellfire." Anathema looked up at Michael; he could see she was quite serious.

"I will. Though, who is to say I don't want Aziraphale...hmmm Anathema?" Michael turned to Anathema with a smirk.

Grabbing Michael by the elbow, Anathema looked at him. "Don't do this, Michael, you only do one night stands, you just conquer and move on. Azira is not for that, I will tell him if you don't stop."

"Anathema, he's single, he's gay, and Crowley is too caught on whatever to say anything, I, on the other hand, am not. So stop your warnings, and leave it be, witch, do you not even see his beauty? He'd be a nice trophy?" Michael frowned at Anathema, walking away for another drink. She would have to let Crowley know at the very least, her eyes followed back up to the stage to watch Aziraphale.

It was then that Anathema saw what Micheal had been talking about. As Aziraphale played, without thought, he moved with the music he played. Eyes closed as though he felt the music within his very soul, platinum hair lit up by his violin, the club's colors dancing over him, caressing him, drawing everyone in to watch, to listen.

Looking up to the booth, Anathema saw Crowley. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she could see his aura and see how his head moved with the music but never turned or bowed down from looking at Aziraphale. Bright reds, blues, and colors of the rainbow danced around Crowley, his aura fluctuating with the music's beat.

Anathema pulled her attention away from Crowley, looking at Aziraphale, having to force herself to look past his beauty, Anathema saw his aura. Singing, dancing, and moving with every note Aziraphale played, Anathema saw it growing, intertwining between the two. They were soulmates, but how was she going to let them know without making it feel as though she was forcing things.

Crowley started to spin another song, but as it began, he jumped down from the booth, Aziraphale tucked his violin away. Looking up at Crowley, who grabbed Aziraphale's hand, pulling him to the dance floor. Aziraphale's face turned into a sunset, behind platinum curls, star-filled blue eyes sparkled, letting Crowley move him on the dance floor.

Crowley moved Aziraphale as they started to dance; there was no hesitating; he went willingly. Crowley's hands slid around Aziraphale's waist before spinning him out and pulling him back up against him. Aziraphale bit his lower lip, looking up at Crowley, catching the tilt of his head.

Anathema watched; maybe this would finally set things right. Though as she watched from the corner of her eyes, Anathema saw Michael, she caught the frown on his face. Looking between the three of them, Anathema tried to head Michael off from the dance floor. Too late, just a bit too late, just as her hand grabbed Michael's wrist, he shook it off, heading straight for Aziraphale and Crowley.

The crowd had separated around the two as they danced. Crowley had Aziraphale by the hand as he pulled him up against him, enjoying the blush that stayed across the bridge of Aziraphale's nose, bashful blue eyes dancing over Crowley's face, reflecting in those damned sunglasses.

Aziraphale felt Crowley's hand at the small of his back and grinned; he could play this game as well and rather well. With a smirk, Aziraphale rolled his body up against Crowley, a wicked grin that could only match a demon. Crowley's breath hitched, spinning Aziraphale around and plastering himself against his back, both started dancing, there was something, both felt it.

The music poured over them as they danced, the crowd dancing with them now, cheering them on. Crowley's hands slid down Aziraphale's sides, further, hips, sliding to the front of Aziraphale's thighs. Aziraphale followed suit, letting his hands slide down Crowley's thighs, bringing his own hands to grip Crowleys on top of his thighs, following Crowley's lead, following, wantonly. Needfully.

As Aziraphale's head tipped back to rest on Crowley's shoulder, someone else grabbed Aziraphale's hand, pulling and spinning him around and away from Crowley. Anathema was already trying to get back to the group; Aziraphale's eyes snapped open, feeling himself pulled, the crowd dancing made it almost impossible to change the rhythm.

Crowley heard the surprised gasp as Aziraphale was ripped from his arms. Crowley growled, taking a step forward, seeing the expression on Aziraphale's face. Then as though he felt it, he looked down to see Aziraphale as he reached out to him. Taking another step forward, Crowley caught Aziraphale's hand, bringing him back. Aziraphale willing to let himself be pulled to Crowley.

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist, holding him there. Much to his surprise, Aziraphale slid his hands up his chest, eyes never leaving his face as one hand slid over shoulders and into his hair, the other resting against his neck, feeling the flutter and pounding of Crowleys heart. Aziraphale was careful not to touch Crowley's glasses. He still didn't know why he was wearing them; maybe he would find out.

Aziraphale and Crowley's dancing was turning into something else; Anathema was trying to get to Michael to pull him away. As she did, she looked over at Aziraphale and Crowley, seeing their auras dancing within the others; Michael was playing with fire and being a complete arse. One too many drinks, Anathema tried to tell herself, she knew it was more profound, Michael didn't like losing.

Crowley rested his forehead against Aziraphales as they danced, letting his hands slide to Aziraphale's hips, holding them gently there as they dance. Aziraphale's fingers itched to pull those glasses off Crowley's face; he wanted to see his eyes and know what he felt.

Desperately needing to know if Crowley was feeling the same thing as he was. Hope, Aziraphale felt hope, longing; he needed Crowley. Closing his eyes, he felt Crowley against him, leaned against his forehead, and felt his heart's thrumming under his fingers.

Anathema barely caught Michael's hand, stopping him from going to Crowley and Aziraphale, the music ended. Crowley went back up in his booth, smiling rather too big for his own face. Anathema made it to Aziraphale, who was breathless looking up at the booth. Michael frowned, taking Aziraphale by the hand again, purposely placing them in front of the booth.

Crowley started to play a rather poignant song directed at Michael, the smile slowly fading as he could see Anathema trying to stop him. The crowd forcing them to move. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, then the words of the song fell over the group. Silence.

Anathema held her chest and started laughing, tears falling from her eyes looking up at Crowley, who was mouthing the lyrics at Michael. Aziraphale caught the look, saw Crowley mouthing the song, his face blushing profusely. Having lost track of what Michael was doing, Aziraphale was tugged away from Anathema. Dancing with the crowd, the group and all else were dancing, bouncing—everyone but Michael, who stood silent, glaring at Crowley.

Crowley was smirking devilishly in the booth, a look that was more of a warning to get away from Aziraphale. It was evident to everyone that Aziraphale didn't want to be touched or danced with the way Michael was dancing with him. As Crowley watched, Michael grinned evilly, turning Aziraphale.

Michael started dancing, closer to Aziraphale, using the crowd to make himself seem innocent enough. Crowley knew better; he was watching, figuring out how to get Aziraphale away from whatever Michael was playing at.

Crowley glanced to the side, seeing Anathema working her way to the two of them. The crowd dancing made it difficult for her to reach them, to stop Michael from being a complete and utter arse. Aziraphale was dancing with the crowd enjoying the song, laughing.

Michael looked up at Crowley. Reaching forward, he grabbed hold of Aziraphale's shoulders and spun him around. Still dancing with the crowd, Michael kept his eyes firmly fixed on Crowley. Michael started dancing behind Aziraphale.

Feeling Michael behind him, Aziraphale turned around, attempting to take a step back and away from him. Michael grinned evilly at Crowley in the booth making sure he saw it and pulled Aziraphale into a kiss.

Anathema stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes looking for Crowley, knowing this would end badly. Crowley had all but stopped moving, and before anyone could do anything, Aziraphale had pulled his arm back, laying out Michael on the floor.

Aziraphale stood over him for a moment, shaking his hand out, having punched Michael dead in the face. Though as Aziraphale shook his hand and his free hand wiped his mouth from Michael's kiss, he turned towards Crowley.

Shaking his head, Aziraphale had truly hoped Crowley hadn't seen what had happened. Between being angry and embarrassed, his eyes widened, knowing Crowley had seen everything. Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyes drop to the floor. Anathema tried to stop Aziraphale, but he was gone.

The only thing they saw was the door closing after him. Newt ran out after Aziraphale, but he was gone. Looking across the street and up and down the intersection, Newt couldn't spot him. Slowly turning, Newt went back inside the club.

Newt shook his head, letting Crowley know he couldn't find Aziraphale. Crowley looked back at Michael, sitting on the side of the stage, wiping his nose. Letting pre-made music play Crowley hopped down from the booth and went to Michael.

"Get your ass off my stage, asshole." Michael looked up, nose bloodied still with a smirk.

"Does it matter, I still kissed him before you." Michael curtly countered Crowley's anger.

"Fuck you, Michael, you're a right ass, lucky it was Aziraphale that punched you, 'cause bout' now, I want to pummel you into the ground." Crowley took one more step forward as Anathema made her to them both.

"Crowley don't, I'll deal with him. Maybe, just maybe there is someone else that needs you about now?" Anathema smiled up at Crowley, her hand around Michael's wrist pulling him away.

Crowley gave Michael a good shove off his stage with his foot before turning around and heading for his booth. Newt was waiting for him, looking down at the violin that Crowley had tucked behind his speakers.

"Seems Azira left his violin behind Crowley, he seemed to have left in an awful hurry." Newt looked at Crowley, seeing the anger in his stance, turned, and started to walk away.

"You know, Crowley, if I remember correctly, Anathema gave him a ride here." Newt smiled. Crowley watched as he opened the door and escorted Anathema and Michael out the door.

Crowley sat on the stairs going up to his booth, pulling the opened violin case onto his lap and gently putting everything in its place before closing it. Remembering that Aziraphale plugged something into his speaker, Crowley went up onto the stage and looked around his speaker.

"Oh come on, what the hell did he.., Oh, well, that is tiny." Crowley shrugged, pulling the dongle out, sliding into his pocket, looking up, caught the salute and wave from Newt saying he could go.

Crowley was out the door before Newt was even done. Crowley opened his car door and gently placed Aziraphale's violin on the seat. Looking down at the case, Crowley pulled the seatbelt down and strapped the violin in place.

"Better safe than sorry," Crowley mumbled out as he climbed in his car's side.

The Bentley roared to life as Crowley turned the key. Sitting in his car for a moment longer, Crowley took in a deep breath. What words could he use to try and make this better? Nothing came to mind. Sighing, he slowly pressed the gas pedal down, letting the Bentley cruise along.

Watching the sidewalks, the road, he couldn't find Aziraphale on his way home, walking of all things. Before Crowley knew it, he was parked in Aziraphale's driveway, not a light on in the cottage, seemingly not a soul in sight, though as Crowley turned off the Bentley, he could hear music coming from behind the cottage, a dim light flickering out in the garden.

Crowley quietly got out of his car, unhooking the violin, he carried it out and around to the back of Aziraphale's cottage. Turning the corner there on the outdoor table were candles flickering the lakes breeze. Music was flowing from inside the cottage, but that wasn't what caught Crowley's attention.

Looking just down the little slope of Aziraphale's garden, there was movement under the moonlight in water was Aziraphale. Crowley stayed still as he watched him disappear under the water, slowly pulling himself back up, pushing his moonlit hair away from his face.

Crowley put the violin in one of the chairs by the table under the gazebo. Quietly he found his feet bringing him to the shore of the lake where the water was gently lapping at the sand. The moonlight shone against silvery wings tattooed on Aziraphale's back. Crowley wondered how he missed that before.

Crowley reached the shoreline, watching as Aziraphale's head was tipped up towards the night sky. Looking up every now and then, Crowley had to admit to himself, the sky was beautiful, full of stars, colors. Though not as beautiful as the angel that was wading further out into the water.

Clearing his throat, Crowley tried to get Aziraphale's attention. Turning around in the water as Aziraphale dipped down, leaving only his head showing. Crowley saw that Aziraphale looked saddened. That was not a look that Crowley ever wanted to see on his angel's face, now or ever.

"You left your violin back at the club, I thought you might, well I figured you might want it back." Crowley kicked at the sand with his foot, trying to not look at Aziraphale but failing miserably.

Aziraphale stayed dipping down in the water, rising up just an inch or two as he looked at Crowley.

"You did?" Aziraphale tilted his head to the side, seeing nothing in Crowley's hands. Standing fully in the water, Aziraphale took a few steps closer to Crowley.

"Umm, yeah, oh, I left it up well, there..." Crowley stumbled on his own words as Aziraphale slowly came closer, still remaining in the water.

"You left ~it~ up there, my violin, or something else? I don't see anything." Aziraphale stayed where he was, chiding Crowley, smirking now as Crowley looked from where the violin was supposedly at and Aziraphale in the water, sparkling.

"Oh, well, it's, it's...ngk." Crowley let out a breath defeated.

"Ngk isn't a word Mr. Anthony J. Crowley," Aziraphale smirked, Crowley barely able to notice the blush...

"Mr. Anthony J. Crowley, is it then?" Crowley shook his head, turning around.

Aziraphale watched as Crowley started to walk away; with a frown, Aziraphale took a few steps towards the shore. Crowley heard the water moving closer, but wasn't prepared for when he found himself suddenly soaked. From behind Crowley, Aziraphale was laughing and splashed him again.

Crowley turned around, looking at Aziraphale, his eyebrows just above the rim of his glasses.

"So this is how you are going to thank me then? Drowning me?"

"You aren't even in the water. How can I drown you? That would entail you actually being in the water."

"Fine, have it your way."


	6. Blessed by an Angels Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley heads to Aziraphale's to  
> bring him his violin that was left at the club.  
> Though when Crowley gets to the cottage,  
> things aren't what he expected.
> 
> Rather fluffy things are afoot!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER FLUFF

**Chapter 6**

_Blessed by an Angels Wings_

**https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi6A53vB-NOitKp8DsfOF34W**

Crowley quickly looked up, hearing thunder rumbling in the distance, watching as the sky lit up with heat lightning. Guessing that it wasn't a storm heading for them, Crowley figured it was nothing to worry about. Though, Crowley made a note about it, a very tiny mental note of rain's possibility.

Finding himself standing on the shore, Crowley looked at Aziraphale. His mind going over and calculating whether this was just Aziraphale being a wiseass, or was this his way of inviting him? Looking down at the front of his jeans and slightly soaked shirt, it should have been enough of an answer.

Every fiber of his being told Crowley that he was being invited, in a way that only Aziraphale could muster up enough courage for. In all honesty, Crowley couldn't blame him for being nervous or unsure; it wasn't as though either had discussed any kind of preference.

Perhaps it was just a feeling between them; he could hope...Crowley could wish.

Aziraphale tilted his head as he looked at Crowley on the shore. The moonlight igniting his hair's red shades and lighting them on fire. Biting his lower lip Aziraphale could feel his fingers itch to run his hands through Crowley's hair. Seeing Crowley tilt his head one way and then the other Aziraphale gathered that Crowley was thinking.

Smirking in a more inviting way, Aziraphale splashed water at Crowley again, perhaps snapping him out of his stupor. Mustering up as much courage as he could, Aziraphale lowered his voice slightly. Somewhat bashfully lowering his eyes before slowly traveling back up Crowley.

"Do I need to send you a written invitation Crowley? The waters lovely.."

Crowley's heart thumped hard against his ribs; he heard the lowered voice, quieter; he caught Aziraphale look at from his feet back to his sunglasses. Any wonderment of an invitation was gone. The water splashed just in front of him, his eyes darting from the sand to Aziraphale, hearing the words he had hoped for.

Crowley heard the words, he knew he heard them, but his feet wouldn't move. More shock that Aziraphale invited him to come closer, a worry of screwing this up, this was Aziraphale, then it occurred to him that to go in the water well that required less clothing.

"Hmm, it's water Crowley, come swimming with me; if your worried about me seeing you, if I recall, I have seen you in far less," Aziraphale added the last, for more shock value than anything.

Turning away from Crowley, he saw the outline of those silver winged tattoos on Aziraphale's back. Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale dove down into the water, swimming away and out past the dock. Crowley watched as Aziraphale disappeared under the water only to pop back up further out.

Crowley stood silent as he watched the water trail off Aziraphale's shoulders, down his arms, following the way his arms moved with the light of the moon catching the glitter that sparkled through his hair as he pushed it back off his face. Crowley started to mumble to himself on the shore, trying to get the nerve up to go and not seem overly anxious about it.

"Come on, Crowley, why am I just standing here? Now I get cold feet, he invited me to come out...move your ass, Crowley." As Crowley mumbled, Aziraphale was chuckling to himself, watching Crowley's head bob as he talked to himself.

"Shit, Aziraphale, I don't have shorts or anything,"

Crowley shouted out towards Aziraphale, who started laughing.

"Me, either!"

Aziraphale swam just a bit closer, standing in the deep water, this time facing Crowley. Crowley was reminded of the day he saw Aziraphale playing the violin in a towel, strong yet soft in all the right areas, the water sparkling like diamonds around the top of a curve to hips below the water's surface.

Crowley's jaw all but hit the ground with the sudden realization that Aziraphale was swimming out there and was utterly bare ass naked. Crowley reached up to his glasses, tilting them down just slightly as his eyebrows threatened to fly off his face.

"I don't think I heard you right; what are you wearing?"

Crowley knew he had to have heard Aziraphale wrong, maybe hearing what he wanted to hear.

"Good Lord Crowley, birthday suit, without attire, nada. Its nighttime. No one is out here now. So either wear your clothes, or strip and get in the water, it's really quite lovely!"

Aziraphale took a few steps forwards before laying back into the water, swimming back a few. Aziraphale was going to leave it up to Crowley now; just the fact that Crowley even looked over the rims of his glasses made Aziraphale gasp a little.

Maybe he could get them off of Crowley in the water, it was nighttime, in the water, perhaps he would take them off. Maybe the water would float them away; he could hope, he could wish.

Crowley's head tilted as though his world was slightly askew suddenly, looking out over what he considered an angel, was naked, in the water, wet, and he definitely inviting Crowley to join him. Well, who was Crowley to say no to an angel? It wasn't like he hadn't almost kissed him if it weren't for fucking Michael.

The thought of Michael and what he had done dragged a growl from Crowley, and it help settled his mind that he was going out there. Though he suddenly felt very naked while he was still fully dressed. Looking down at himself, Crowley wondered if he could actually do this. Skinny dipping with Aziraphale was not even a vague thought in his head, but now it was all he could think of.

Intruding thoughts of being next to Aziraphale, both without clothing, maybe being able to touch him. Possibly able to finish the start of that kiss that they weren't able to share. Crowley shivered. Shit, those thoughts were going to cause issues he didn't want to deal with, at least not now.

"Well, fine, but turn around, don't look, don't just stare at me."

Crowley was fully blushing and thankful for the darkness. Waving his hands towards Aziraphale to turn around.

Aziraphale put his hands up in a surrendering way as he turned around, quietly laughing at the scene Crowley was making on the shore. Facing the open lake, Aziraphale looked at the moon reflecting back in the water, still, no movement, only the water lapping at his waist, the slight ripple floating out from him. Smiling to himself, as he faced away from Crowley, taking a calming breath, Aziraphale didn't think Crowley would actually come out, but then again, he did invite him.

Crowley kept his eyes on Aziraphale; every time Aziraphale even went to talk, or move Crowley quickly shushed him, telling him to stay turned around. Aziraphale finally stopped trying to do anything and dropped into the water, letting it envelop him completely.

Staying under the water's surface, sounds became an echo of its former self; running his fingers through his hair, Aziraphale could see the glitter floating around him. Finally, needing air Aziraphale came back up, pushing the hair out of his eyes; he could hear the sound of the water moving and being slightly splashed around.

"Can I turn around yet, or do I have to look out there until you go back?"

Aziraphale asked, just enough sass in it to cause Crowley to audibly groan.

"It's fine, do you do this often? I mean the naked thing in the water."

Crowley finally reached Aziraphale, standing out in the water next to him, looking up at the stars.

"Once in a while, it's freeing in a way. I always have to be a certain way for the orchestra, another way for friends, it's nice just to strip it all away and float."

Aziraphale looked up at the stars in the sky, every now and then turning his head to look towards the lightning that was lighting the sky further away. Purples, pinks, and reds were dancing through the clouds down by the town, here though the sky was still clear.

Crowley couldn't help but look at Aziraphale, noticing from the side that his eyes weren't just blue. There was something that sparkled within them; Crowley wanted to look in them, see what it was, how could they be this beautiful. For a moment, Crowley pretended more or less to see what he was looking at. Aziraphale pointed up to a constellation that he knew, and then a second.

"That's what I know about them, I know that the north star is there, That's Orion's belt, and somewhere over there is the big and little dipper."

Crowley smiled, knowing quite a bit more. Looking away from Aziraphale, he pointed up, showing him different constellations, stars, and when Aziraphale couldn't quite see where he was pointing, Crowley slid behind him, taking his wrist and pointing at the stars.

Aziraphale followed Crowley's line of sight, as he used his own fingers to point at stars. Smiling, Crowley backed up a little but didn't let go of Aziraphale's arm. Instead, he found himself letting his fingers travel up the length of his arm, over his shoulder and slowly touching the tattoos on Aziraphale's back. Tracing the pattern of silvery wings that were barely there.

"These are really beautiful, is there a story?"

Crowley asked in a hushed voice, almost as though he was afraid anything louder than a whisper would break the moment.

"If you hadn't noticed, my name is, well, rather old, rather angelic. Parents and all that, but when they found out about me, I was no longer their angel, so I had my own wings made."

Crowley traced the outline of feathers, smirking as he noticed the ends of his wings ended below the waterline; stopping there, he slid his fingers along the top of the water to the other wing, following the lines of the wing back up to Aziraphale's other shoulder.

"Why do you call me an angel?"

Aziraphale kept looking up at the stars, trying to keep a confidence, at least enough of one to ask questions, anything to keep Crowley there.

"Ngk..well, heh, umm, yeah that. Well, you are kind of an angel. The way you play music, the way you brighten any room you enter, all sweet and...yeah, I'm going to shut up now."

Crowley cursed himself for saying too much; this was when it was going to go wrong, he knew it.

Aziraphale shivered, trying to breathe regularly, but failing miserably. Turning his face just slightly, Aziraphale could see that Crowley still had his glasses on. Without meaning to Aziraphale sighed, Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Crowley immediately removed his hands from Aziraphales back, trying to fix whatever he did wrong.

"No, no, everything is fine better than fine, I, well, I don't want to ask but, if I may...why do you always wear your glasses?" Aziraphale tilted his head slightly, seeing that Crowley was standing off to the side again.

Feeling as though he overstepped some boundary, Aziraphale looked back up at the stars. Trying to keep the disappointment out of his face, he counted stars, calming, grounding something to hold onto.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to, nevermind, really, it's fine." Aziraphale meant his words, and Crowley felt it, but if things didn't go wrong yet well, this was when something would go wrong, Crowley knew it.

"You're better than anyone else, Angel. You've never asked, you've never pried, not even when it was dark, or in the club. Do you want to know why?"

Crowley turned towards Aziraphale and waited, gently drawing a circle on Aziraphale bared shoulder, slowly letting a single finger slide down his arm. Turning Aziraphale towards him fully, Crowley took Aziraphale's wrists in his hand, raising them to his glasses.

Aziraphale stopped breathing as soon as he felt Crowley's touch on his shoulder, then seeing Crowley face him. Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley's face, feeling the cold of the sunglasses arm where Crowley placed his fingers.

Crowley was able to see Aziraphales eyes, lit by moonlight. Within those blue eyes were stars, nebulas, colors he had never seen in someone's eyes before. Flecks of golds and silvers sparkled within them, Crowley could feel himself falling into those eyes, he decided there that he didn't want to be without them, be without his angel.

"It's okay, for you, it's okay, I want you to know. Just, please don't be scared of them."

Crowley closed his eyes as he released Aziraphale's wrist. Aziraphale felt the tremble in Crowley's hands as they released him.

Aziraphale took a step closer to Crowley, gently pressing his fingers against the sunglasses' metal arms. Pulling just enough to slide the glasses off of Crowley's beautiful face, Aziraphale smiled.

"You need to open them, Crowley, please let me see you, trust me?"

Aziraphale asked breathlessly, finding his own hands trembling as he held the sunglasses within one hand.

Crowley heard the change in Aziraphale's tone of voice and how his breathing had gone all but silent, soft, trembling. Slowly Crowley opened his eyes, finding he was looking down. Aziraphale lifted Crowley's chin with his free hand, bringing his golden gaze to finally match his.

Crowley held his breath, readying himself for the telltale horror. The typical backing away that he had dealt with most of his life. One of the many reasons he didn't really pursue anyone, but Aziraphale was different, he had hope, Aziraphale was hope.

Aziraphale took in a deep breath as their eyes finally met. Instead of pulling away, Aziraphale reached up, moving the hair from Crowleys eyes, seeing him. Aziraphale looked over Crowley's face, drinking in his beauty, something he had never seen before. A light, life, love was hidden behind those glasses.

"Beautiful."

Was the only word Aziraphale could utter before his breath was completely taken from him. What he found there was more than he ever could have hoped for. Hope.

Aziraphale was stunned by how beautiful Crowley was. Eyes the color of gold, long eyelashes that framed them, they were beautiful, unique, and Aziraphale wanted to swim in them for hours. Never wanting to see them hidden from him ever again.

Thoughts of love, wondering what Crowley would look like with need flashing through his eyes, want, longing for him. Could Crowley ever want him like that, Aziraphale could hope, hope seemed real now.

Crowley exhaled the breath he was holding as soon as he heard ~Beautiful~ uttered by his angel. Blinking, shocked, and then to have Aziraphale step even closer, reaching up and touching his face, Crowley felt his heart skip. Aziraphale let his fingers touch and move Crowley's hair behind his ear, mimicking when he had done it at the club.

Aziraphale stayed where he was, lost in Crowleys eyes, not moving, not sure if Crowley was okay with him actually seeing him. Crowley swallowed and took a step closer, slowly raising his hand to the side of Aziraphale's face. Pressing his face against Crowley's hand, Aziraphale sighed.

In his own way, Crowley was asking if it was okay, could he touch Aziraphale; he waited a moment. Looking into Aziraphale's eyes, feeling the pressure of his face in his hand, he watched as Aziraphale answered him by turning his face and gently placing a kiss in the palm of Crowley's hand.

That one single kiss was all Crowley needed to tilt Aziraphale's chin up towards him. Watching Aziraphale as his blue eyes closed, a singular tilt of his head had Crowley slowly brushing his lips over Aziraphale's. Feeling the sigh leave Aziraphale's lips, Crowley pulled them together under the moonlight.

Aziraphale slowly slid his hands into Crowley's hair. Feeling how soft it was, he twisted his fingers within it, pulling Crowley to him, kissing him. Crowley took the pull in his spine, not wanting to move from Aziraphales touch, feeling his body pressed against his own. Biting at Aziraphale's' lower lip, a beckoning to open and let Crowley in was answered without a thought.

Aziraphale held onto Crowley tighter, not wanting to float away from him, parting his lips, touching Crowleys lower lip with his tongue, inviting him to deepen their kiss. Crowley growled lightly as he pulled Aziraphale entirely against him, letting his tongue dance over an angel's lips, tasting Aziraphale with his tongue.

Their kiss spoke for them both, words that the other couldn't say. Love, passion, music, their music with each other was played on lips that burned for one another.

Crowley pulled them into deeper water. Floating further out under the moon, lightning flashed, the thunder rumbled, the clouds opened, letting the rain fall onto them, but time had all but stopped for them. There was no one else, it was only them.

Coming up for air, Crowley chuckled at Aziraphale, pushing back the hair from his eyes, Crowley slowly laced kisses down Aziraphale's neck, coming back up to look into eyes that swallowed him. Aziraphale blushed feeling and seeing Crowley looking at him, genuinely being able to see him. Reaching up, Aziraphale slid his hand over Crowley's cheek, moving the hair out of his face, running his fingers down his neck.

Following the golden snake that started somewhere on Crowley's hip and wrapping around him, Aziraphale continued to trace it to the top of Crowley's hand. Looking back at Crowley, questions could be asked later; he was here in the now.

Feeling the thrum of his heart just under the skin of his neck. Aziraphale let his lips press against the fluttering pulse of Crowley's neck, pulling him back into a kiss. Aziraphale kissed Crowley, letting himself be pulled in by all that was Crowley.

The rain fell on them as they kissed in the water, holding onto each other as if forever was too far away. Rain splashed on the surface of the water, Crowley let them sink under the water. For now, this was enough; he wasn't going to lose this, not now and not his angel. They had all the time in the world now, and for now, kissing his angel was enough, Aziraphale was more than enough. Hope.


	7. Classically Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a wonderful evening  
> just the two of them together.  
> Crowley heads home wishing he  
> had stayed with Aziraphale. At the  
> rehearsal Crowley sneaks in only to see  
> Gabriel attempting to threaten Aziraphale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note we most definitely earned  
> the E rating this time through.
> 
> It's a dream but a rather vivid one.
> 
> You are warned let the dream smut  
> commence!!

**Chapter 7**

_Classically Crowley_

**YOUTUBE PLAYLIST - Goes with the story**

**[Click for Chapter Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4vbI5d9tGlPWaUH3L1IVba) **

Aziraphale walked with Crowley back to the cottage. Smiling and holding hands, looking at Crowley, his golden eyes sparkling under the moonlight, shining with happiness that Aziraphale hadn't seen there before. Finally, he was free to see the beauty of Crowley, the warmth, the love? Glancing to his side, Crowley caught Aziraphale looking at him sighing. As if reading his mind, Aziraphale tilted his head, resting against Crowley's bare shoulder.

Crowley smirked, resting his head against Aziraphale's, comfort; this felt right; for the first time in a long time, Crowley felt right.

_"So, what are you staring at, Angel?"_

_"Your eyes, they are beautiful, they sparkle like gold."_

_"Ngk, Yeah, well, you're quite possibly the only one who sees that, Angel."_

_"Well, everyone else is most certainly wrong; they are warm, kind, elegant. It's like looking into the sun without being burnt. I see you, your soul is beautiful."_

Aziraphale sighed deeply, as the two finally reached the cottage, Crowley slid open the sliding glass door to go in. Placing his hand on the small of Aziraphale's back, both felt the electricity that one simple touch erupted through both of them. A momentary pause in the world. A look that neither understood, Crowley ushered Aziraphale through the door and into the cottage.

_"Mind if I change in the bathroom?"_

_"You do have a towel,"_

_"I mean, yes, thank you for the towel Angel, but I don't think driving home in the nuddy is going to work for me."_

Aziraphale pointed towards the bathroom, chuckling as he thought of Crowley speeding away with nothing on. Not a bad idea, not an unwanted thing, the imagery was beyond beautiful and relatively self-serving, but Aziraphale didn't really care at that moment.

Walking towards the kitchen, he stopped in front of the mirror, seeing his curls fighting to come back. Aziraphale couldn't help but think of how kind Crowley was. How even though he told Crowley his eyes were like a sun that didn't burn, Aziraphale definitely feel the burning heat that fell onto him when Crowley looked at him.

Crowley hadn't pressed for anything from Aziraphale, didn't even ask for anything more than the kiss. Sighing, Aziraphale touched his lips without thinking, looking in the mirror, he ran his finger over his lower lip. Smiling, he let his eyes close, feeling the gentle kiss that had brushed over his lips.

Crowley had quietly come back out and watched as a kiss was remembered by Aziraphale; he smiled. Watching his Angel remember a kiss that was no more than half an hour old. Laughing in the rain, stealing kisses here and there, Crowley felt giddy at being able to just be, nothing expected, nothing being taken for granted.

This was his Angel, and he would do whatever was needed to make sure it stayed that way. Crowley liked the way Aziraphale looked at him, even without his glasses on, he felt something else there whenever Aziraphale looked at him, he didn't know what it was, but he liked it...a lot.

Sneaking up behind Aziraphale, who was lost in his own little world of memory. Crowley gently took Aziraphale by his shoulders, spinning him around to face him, eliciting a squeak from his Angel, too cute. Pulling him into his arms, Crowley looked into Aziraphale's eyes before kissing him breathless.

" _I gotta go, Angel, see you tomorrow?"_

_"Yes...when?"_

Aziraphale breathlessly whispered out, eyes slowly opening, trying to find his footing.

_"I'll send you a message." Crowley grinned, wheels were turning in his head; he had an idea._

_"Okay, I'll be practicing; I have to be at the concert hall for a quick rehearsal around noon."_

Crowley smiled as he slid his glasses back on, his heart skipping a beat as he saw disappointment flutter across Aziraphale's face. Honesty was what Crowley saw; his Angel truly loved his eyes, he could feel his heartbeat within his chest. Tomorrow seemed far away right now; all Crowley really wanted to do was stay with Aziraphale, but it was too soon.

Crowley wanted to take his time; he wanted Aziraphale to say when he was ready, in one way or another. Crowley wanted to feel needed and wanted by Aziraphale. Waiting was something Crowley could do; he had done it for years, this though, whatever this was, he didn't want to lose it and could wait for however long it would take.

Crowley pulled out of Aziraphale's gravel drive, watching his angel wave goodbye in his rearview. Fighting every instinct to go back and stay with him for the night, but Crowley knew what more than likely would happen, and he didn't want that just yet.

Crowley lied to himself about what he really wanted; what he wanted was waving goodbye to him in his car's rearview. Sighing, Crowley flipped on the radio.

Aziraphale turned and rather giddily went back into his house. His heart thrumming a melody all its own, little did he know, yet it was a song of love that was trying to get out. Opening his door, locking it, Aziraphale all but danced into his bedroom, roughing up his hair.

Throwing himself onto his bed, with a sigh, Aziraphale looked up at the ceiling. Hands rested over his heart, feeling it beat as he thought of Crowley. This evening was not what he expected in any terms of meaning. First, the club, Michael, and then having Crowley actually come to his house, with his violin and then joining him in the water.

Slowly Aziraphale started to drift off to sleep, hoping he would dream of Crowley. Aziraphale managed to lie to himself at how much he wanted Crowley to stay. He didn't want to make Crowley feel pressured into anything; his eyes were enough for one evening, kissing Crowley was a dream, a thought that he had nurtured only to have it come true.

Aziraphale eyes closed, his thoughts were of kissing Crowley still fresh in his mind, his lips still tingling. Taking a deep breath, a yawn and Aziraphale was asleep, drifting off into his own dreams for the evening.

Crowley flopped down onto his bed, holding his arm up, he traced the golden serpent that adorned him, stopping his fingers on the top of his hand looking at the serpents head. Retracing the way Aziraphale's touch had traced it, closing his eyes, letting himself relive it for a moment, taking a breath to ground himself from floating away on a thought. How did he end up with an angel? That delivered a package at his door.

Crowley chuckled to himself, remembering the first day he had met Aziraphale or, more so, seven-seven-seven. Wearing nothing but a towel no less, that beautiful blushing Angel at his door, looking him up and down. Without even having the courtesy of hiding it, then again, as he thought, Aziraphale didn't really even realize when he did things like that. It was almost innocent.

Crowley smiled, rolling over and setting his alarm for the next day; he had a plan for his Angel, something he wanted to do. Since Aziraphale had invited him skinny dipping, perhaps he could do something for him, something that would make his angel smile, maybe even blush.

Crowley's eyes slid shut as sleep took him, his mind deciding that he would have dreams on this night. Frustration, need and want compiled itself into a rather interestingly fulfilling dream. Crowley slowly drifted off to sleep, ever so softly, ever so lulling, a voice he had never heard in a dream before gently touched his mind...

_"Softly, my love, make me beg..."_ Aziraphale uttered from between pants of need and want.

Crowley grinned as his head bobbed over Aziraphales cock, tasting each drop of precum that danced over the top of his Angel's cock. Angelic hands twisted within Crowley's hair. He pulled his head down further on Aziraphale, who pressed his cock deeper into his loves throat. Crowley felt the stuttered movement, feeling the further hardening of Aziraphale's cock as it hit the back of his throat.

Closing his golden eyes, Crowley waited, letting Aziraphale pull and push his head. Crowley was ready to taste his Angel's love, how he had wanted to. Crowley ran his tongue along both sides of Aziraphale's shaft. From the bottom to the top, he could hear the noises escaping Aziraphale. Time was short, and he'd get his reward, Aziraphale filling his mouth. Waiting, waiting, waiting...

*beep..beep...beep...vibrate...vrrrrrrrrr, vrrrrrrrrr*

Crowley grumpily woke up from a dream; looking around, everything was just a tad too bright around the edges, he realized he was in yet another dream. Seeing his cell phone brightly shining and buzzing, he growled, irritatedly. Looking at the screen, he saw it was his Angel. Crowley wondered if Aziraphale could tell when Crowley was having the most wonderful of dreams.

Reaching between his legs, Crowley picked up his phone, giving his cock a squeeze as his fingers wrapped around him.

Upon answering the phone, he heard his Angel's voice lower than usual, but Crowley couldn't put his finger on it. That voice, his voice, drove Crowley crazy, his thumb sliding over the top of his weeping cock, letting his fingers slide within his own precum. Aziraphale said Crowley's name right as his hand stroked his cock, pulling an unwanted gasp from his throat.

_"Crowley, my dear, what are you up too? Are you alright, darling?_ "

Aziraphale temptingly whispered into the phone. Crowley's Angel wasn't as innocent as he would like to believe, though he genuinely prayed Aziraphale wasn't.

_"Ngk...Noth...nothing, Angel, why?"_

Crowley slid his hand again, slowly twisting at the top of his cock, closing his eyes, imagining an angel on his knees, taking him fully in his mouth.

_"What do you need, angel?"_

How Crowley hoped that one day Aziraphale would answer that question directly with ~You Crowley, I need you...~ Aziraphale grinned on the other end of the phone. Sliding his own hand down the front of him, pressing firmly against his own growing erection. Looking down at the spot that started to seep through his trousers, Aziraphale bit his lip.

_"Are you ever going to ask me, Crowley?"_

Aziraphale plainly stated, no context was given as Crowley tried to understand what Aziraphale was trying to hint at.

_"Ask you what angel?"_

Crowley sat slightly straighter, his hand slowing to a stop as he listened to that phone's other end.

_"Ask me what you really want, Crowley, my love, do you really want to stay home alone again? I can hear it in your voice Crowley, do you want to be alone?"_

Aziraphale asked, no pretense was in his voice, only if Crowley could pick up on what he was saying.

_"I'm not drinking tonight, angel, don't really feel like dealing with a headache right now, have other issues,"_

Crowley smirked, sliding his hand again, biting his lower lip, listening to his Angel.

_"What about me, Crowley?"_

Aziraphale pressed his hand against his trousers, trying to release some of his need, hoping to get Crowley's attention.

Crowley's mind stopped working for a moment as the words settled in his mind. Did Aziraphale just offer himself as the drink for the evening? Was Aziraphale inviting him to take him? Well fuck, Crowley was going to press just a little more to see.

_"Ngk..?"_

Crowley was very tactful as Aziraphale smirked on his end of the phone. In Crowley's dream, Aziraphale knew him very well, and tonight well, Aziraphale wanted to know him much better.

_"Very good, my dear, I'll take that as a yes, are you coming over here, or should I come to you?"_

Aziraphale plainly asked.

Crowley all but stuttered, quickly grabbing for his clothes, Aziraphale chuckled.

_"Your place it is then."_

Crowley stopped dead as the phone went dead, all went dark within the dream for a moment, then as the dream came back into focus, he felt a whisper of breath as Aziraphale stood behind him.

Crowley swallowed, feeling Aziraphale behind him, felt a hand slowly slide up his bare back.

_"Don't you think we've waited long enough, my dear? Do I really have to beg?"_

Slowly Crowley turned to face his Angel. This wasn't really happening. This was a dream again, wasn't it? Aziraphale tilted his head as his starlit blue eyes scanned all of Crowley, from the top of his red hair to the bottom of his bared feet.

_"You look delicious, Crowley."_

Crowley blinked, golden eyes wide trying to take in everything that was happening.

_"I do feel I am a bit overdressed, or were you expecting me already?"_

Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow looking down at Crowley's hands, trying to hide his hardening erection.

_"Please don't hide anything, Crowley, I intend to taste every part of you if you'll let me."_

Crowley's mouth hung open slightly agape. His Angel was talking like this? It definitely was affecting his cock that was decidedly growing harder with every word that the Angel said. Taking a step forward, Aziraphale slid his hand into Crowley's hair, pulling him forward. Aziraphale's lips brushed over Crowleys,

_"May I, please?"_

Aziraphale waited. Crowley nodded, closing the distance.

Crowley had dreamt of this kiss for what seemed like forever. The moan that left Aziraphale he couldn't help; it was overwhelming and wanton as his tongue ran over Crowleys lower lip begging for entrance. Crowley forgot about hiding himself from the eyes of an angel; instead, his arms wrapped around Aziraphale.

He pulled himself flush with Aziraphale's body, feeling his naked body pressing against his even sweeter Angel's soft clothing. Aziraphale groaned, sliding his knee between Crowley's legs, feeling the hardening cock of his love pressing against his thigh. Aziraphale let his free hand roam over Crowley's body, feeling the serpentine spine as Crowley ground against Aziraphale thigh.

_"Too much clothing, angel, off."_

Aziraphale smirked before Crowley could say anything; Aziraphale's clothes were gone; how Crowley thanked the dreams gods as Aziraphale was now naked against him. Crowley moaned into the kiss, passionately delicious suddenly turned filthy. Tongues fought a war of their own, as lips kissed and roamed along necklines, over collarbones bringing forth even more noises from both, driving the other on.

Aziraphale slid his hands to Crowley's hips as he slowly slid down Crowley's body. Aziraphale's angelic tongue tasting and licking over Crowley's flesh, biting, kissing over the worried flesh. Finally, finding his placement firmly on his knees in front of Crowley, opening his mouth, Aziraphale looked up expectantly.

Crowley groaned outwardly, realizing what Aziraphale was doing, his hand sliding into those platinum curls, twisting for a good hold. Aziraphale licked his lips, wetting them, holding out his tongue. Crowley pulled Aziraphale's head forward, sliding his cock on Aziraphale's tongue, pulling his head and entirely driving into Aziraphale mouth. Aziraphale moaned, sending the vibrations through Crowley's cock, lighting his spine on fire.

Pushing into his mouth deeper, Aziraphale swallowed Crowley, letting Crowley rub his cock's head on the back of his throat. Loving every moment of it, Aziraphale scratched down Crowley's legs, manicured nails leaving scratches, pulling a moan from Crowley. Crowley's hips bucked against Aziraphale's mouth, shivers ran through his body.

Aziraphale flattened his tongue, slowly sliding it up the length of Crowley's cock, hollowing out his cheeks. Aziraphale pushed back with his hands, waiting for the bump of the bed against the back of Crowley's knees. Just before Crowley fell back against the bed, the telltale thump gave Aziraphale more control of swallowing Crowley into his mouth.

A wicked grin crossed Aziraphale's plush pink lips, swollen from Crowley's cock sliding over them.

~BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP......................."

It was then that Crowley's real alarm went off, seemingly rather loud, shocking him out of sleep and sitting bolt upright in bed. Blinking, looking around his room as though he genuinely expected Aziraphale to be in bed with him. Crowley leaned over, letting his hand slam into his secondary alarm clock, knocking it to the ground.

Groaning, Crowley rolled out of bed, unfulfilled, frustrated, having to deal with a dream that was just that, a dream. Growling out curses, Crowley flipped the shower on; he looked down and growled. There was no way that this would take care of itself. Stepping into the shower, the water ran over him, turning the hot water just a tad more; he was determined to let the water burn him a bit.

How long had it been since someone had turned Crowley on? To the point that his dreams were trying to fulfill what he was trying to not do yet. ~Yet~ he informed himself as he let his hand wrap around his cock, sliding his hand over himself...then as if God herself saw what was going on, Crowley's phone started ringing.

Growling quite loudly at this point, he looked at the phone.

_"Oh, what the fuck....he has to be an angel, timing Aziraphale timing..."_

Crowley swallowed, trying to pull back any sound in his voice that would give away his current situation.

_"Morning Angel..."_

_"Oh, good morning, my dear, did I wake you?"_

My dear? That was new; Crowley liked it. Hearing Aziraphale's voice again triggered his dream, a memory now floated through Crowley's mind.

_"No, no, I was taking a shower..."_

Crowley's voice had lowered slightly, he didn't notice, but Aziraphale did.

_"Oh, shower, were you in the shower? Or getting into the shower?"_

Crowley all but stopped talking for a moment. Looking at his phone for a minute, he thought to himself, ~What an odd question.~

_"I was in the shower Angel..."_

_"Oh, oh dear, well, that didn't help any..."_

_"Umm, beg pardon? What didn't help?"_

_"See, well..nothing, nothing at all, gotta go, see you later!"_

Before Crowley could ask anything else, Aziraphale was gone. Crowley's phone went black as the screen shut down. Crowley stared at his phone for a moment while his mind was churning, looking for answers to that phone call's oddity. Could Aziraphale have had an interesting dream as well? Crowley smirked to himself, thinking of his Angel having issues like he was.

_"Maybe it didn't help you, angel, but you definitely are what I needed.."_ Crowley grinned, getting back into the shower.

Aziraphale looked at the time; oh, this wouldn't do. He was running late; he didn't want to deal with Gabriel, not today, he was in a rather good mood. Grabbing his ebony violin Aziraphale ran for the bus, barely making it. As Aziraphale sat down, he opened his violin, making sure the strings were all perfect, checking the sound as quietly as possible, so Gabriel couldn't complain.

He pulled up in front of the concert hall and had time; the other musicians were still filtering in. Grabbing his violin, Aziraphale ran from the bus, up the stairs to the concert hall and through the doors. Quickly finding his seat, pulling the music out, and double-checking his violin.

Gabriel was already at the front of the Orchestra as Aziraphale looked up, seeing the frown on Gabriel's face, Aziraphale knew this was going to be a bad day. Picking up his baton, Gabriel never broke eye contact with Aziraphale. Using the baton to point at Aziraphale, he slid his violin under his chin and readied himself.

Crowley knew that Aziraphale would be at the concert hall for a while for rehearsal at noon. Having nothing else to do, Crowley quietly snuck in, wanting to hear Aziraphale play without the club's bass and beat. Arriving at the concert hall mere moments before Aziraphale. Finding a seat, he slid in sitting at the far back.

Making sure that no one heard him, especially Gabriel, Crowley didn't even want to be seen by him. A few years prior, Gabriel and Crowley had had it out. Gabriel, in turn, had made sure Crowley was blacklisted from playing with any other orchestra. Gabriel had even gone so far as to make up lies about him.

Aziraphale watched the baton, the Orchestra was ready to play, though Gabriel just stood there, baton raised, making the Orchestra hold their pose. Slowly Gabriel lowered his baton, fully turning towards Aziraphale.

_"So, Aziraphale, let's have a quick conversation. As far as I am concerned, you were late. You are still bringing a violin that is overly showy for no reason, which I already said to not use here, and from what I hear, you are still playing at that club."_

Aziraphale stayed quiet, swallowing the lump in his throat; being ridiculed and bullied by Gabriel was one thing. However, In front of the entire Orchestra was another.

_"So, let's see if you can actually play anything anymore or if you are ruined by that club, and it's DJ."_

Aziraphale instantly felt a pull in his stomach that made him extremely angry; how dare Gabriel refers to Crowley in that tone. So many questions were revolving in Aziraphale's mind. How did he even know Crowley, and what did that have to do with anything.

Crowley could hear Gabriel, and he knew that Aziraphale was playing at the club. Gabriel was doing his best to embarrass Aziraphale, holding his tongue for the moment Crowley stayed quiet. Anger filled Crowley, he had had to deal with Gabriel before, but he wasn't going to do this to his Angel.

_"Okay, Gabriel. Since you determined to embarrass me in front of the Orchestra, let's see who's better, shall we? What do you want me to play then?"_

Aziraphale stood his ground.

_"Niccolò Paganini, Caprice Number...let's say five in B minor"_ Gabriel had an evil grin on his face.

Crowley leaned forward against the chair in front of him, watching Aziraphale lift his violin tucking it up and under his chin, watched the spin and flourish of the bow up into the air, and saw Gabriel's lift's baton. Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale started to play.

Every note he played was perfection, every tempo change Aziraphale hit perfectly. Gabriel tried his best to make Aziraphale fail, but instead, he received a very irritated Angel playing, just to piss him off. Try as he might, Gabriel couldn't make Aziraphale break while playing, even as Gabriel tried to lower his baton.

Aziraphale looked him dead in the eyes and finished the piece without Gabriel's help. The music came to an end, and Aziraphale lowered his violin, keeping his bow against his leg as he stood facing off with Gabriel. There wasn't much to be said. Aziraphale had shown up Gabriel, and now there was a tension in the air between them.

_"Anything else, Gabriel?"_

_"Okay, Aziraphale. Since you seem determined, play Bach, Partita for Violin Solo Number one in B Minor, Double Presto... Without me keeping time for you."_

Taking a deep breath, to steady his hand, Aziraphale started to play, and as he did, the bow lit up like a flame, his violin glowing. It was a marvelous piece to behold Aziraphale to play; Gabriel's face turned into a frown lifting his baton to quiet Aziraphale, but it didn't work, Aziraphale kept playing.

Crowley was astounded in the back of the Hall as he listened. Quietly cheering his Angel on seeing the lights and flames from his violin and bow erupt on stage. Gabriel needed to be put in his place; however, somewhere deep down, Crowley knew this wouldn't end well.

Gabriel wasn't one to be shown up, least of all by a single violist no matter how talented. Crowley thought of the few things he had heard about Aziraphale being part of this Orchestra and remembered Anathema telling him he was hired to play a particular type of music, that he was the star here.

Crowley highly doubted that the decision was to bring Aziraphale into his Orchestra, especially playing the type of music he played at the club, to Gabriel, that wasn't allowed.

_"Want me to try something harder Gabriel, you do seem to be testing if I can play or not. So what's next, then?"_

Aziraphale angrily asked Gabriel in a manner that said more than words ever could; Gabriel looked somewhat shocked at the audacity of anyone speaking to him like this. Aziraphale held his bow at the ready like a warrior holding a flaming sword.

_"Yes, you can leave. If I wanted a showoff, I would have hired one."_

Crowley felt the anger rising within him; biting his tongue was becoming impossible; he felt himself standing. His feet started moving towards the Orchestra on their own just in time to be stopped by his Angel's voice.

_"So, you're telling me I can't play at the club on my own time? I can't play the music that I was hired to play here? Any particular reason?"_

Gabriel frowned deeper if that was even possible. Aziraphale didn't change his footing nor his stare; Gabriel had officially pissed him off. Gabriel picked up the baton from his stand, pointing it directly at Aziraphale as he fully turned to face him.

_"You were hired to play with this Orchestra, I am the Fucking Conductor, and you will play what I say, and playing at the club tarnishes the way my Orchestra looks. I will not have you sully the good name of this fine Orchestra by playing at that club, with that DJ."_

Aziraphale quietly placed his violin back in the case, closing it and picking it up. Turning to look at Gabriel, Aziraphale grinned.

_"I can do what I want on my time Gabriel, and if you don't like it, find someone else to play these pieces..."_

Aziraphale turned to leave. Gabriel stepped forward, grabbing the back of Aziraphale arm and pulling him. Crowley watched as Aziraphale stumbled a bit, catching himself before falling and turned towards Gabriel, yanking his arm free. Crowley had had enough, that was it, Gabriel was done.

_"You have no right to talk to me like that, I control how those pieces go, and you will play them as such."_

_"No, no, I don't think so, Gabriel, you play them yourself, I don't know what your problem is with Anthony J. Crowley, but you sure as hell lost one of the best pianist I have ever heard.."_

Gabriel took a step forward, slowly raising his baton, anger flittered through his eyes as the words left Aziraphale's mouth.

_"Touch him again like that, Gabriel, and you and I will finally have that last conversation."_

Crowley growled out between clenched teeth, Aziraphale smirked, watching Crowley saunter vaguely downwards from the Concert Hall's back.

Both Aziraphale and Gabriel looked towards the threatening voice coming from the darkness of the hall. Aziraphale couldn't help the smile that flitted across his face; he knew that voice, he welcomed that voice, it was Crowley. Gabriel turned so fast to face the voice that he dropped his baton to the floor as Crowley came into view.

_"You! This is your fault that he is like this now, aren't you? I knew you were a no-good hack, untalented..."_

Crowley cut Gabriel off as he proceeded to speak and adequately shutting him up.

_"Oh, shut the fuck up, Gabriel. You can't scare me anymore; you already did everything you could."_

Crowley growled out at Gabriel. Aziraphale could feel the anger in the way that Crowley was standing.

_"Coming to his defense, are we? What a new play toy for you, Anthony? Trying to ruin someone else's career like you did your own?"_

_"Don't call me that Gabriel, you ruined that name. Trust me, I can ruin yours as well. I know you better than you think."_

Crowley tilted his head slightly, looking between Aziraphale and Gabriel. Realizing that this wasn't his decision, Crowley looked at Aziraphale to make a choice on his own. Did he walk away, or did he walk away with Crowley?

_"You can't do anything, Gabriel, what else can you do to me? You already lied and ruined my career as a pianist.."_

_"I can ruin his."_

Gabriel grinned wickedly, glaring at Crowley with pure malice.

The Orchestra uncomfortably shuffled under the weight of the conversation. Even Aziraphale wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but he could feel the anger rising in Crowley. Gabriel was enjoying it far too much, which in turn finally angered Aziraphale enough.

_'I, well, fuck."_

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, even though he couldn't see his eyes, Aziraphale could tell that Crowley was considering conceding and leaving him there, leaving him just to save his career. Feeling his heart drop into his stomach as the thought raced through his mind.

Aziraphale slowly realized that Crowleys playing the piano had meaning behind it. It was then as the anger flooded his sense that Aziraphale finally saw what had happened. Seeing Crowleys face drop slightly, reading that he was debating to leave, he couldn't.

Leave him, to save his career, but there were other Orchestras, there was Crowley. There was the competition and Tomorrow Land; maybe they could do it together, but Crowley turned, walking away before he could say anything.

Aziraphale's panicked as he watched Crowley walk away, feeling his heart start to split in two, looking at Gabriel, hate-filled his thoughts, he was done, and no one was going to tell him what he could or could not play, or who he could be with.

Aziraphale called out to Crowley to wait, pleading filled his voice...

_"Crowley, please don't leave, come back!"_

Crowley heard the words. Was Aziraphale really going to side with him against Gabriel? His heart felt like it was overflowing with what he didn't know, but Aziraphale did. Aziraphale took a step towards Gabriel, his eyes seemingly lit from inside with a fire that burned for Crowley, and Gabriel was not going to ruin it.

_"I don't need this. Crowley, are you still doing Tomorrow Land?"_

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, unsure where he was going with this, but he would follow along.

_"Yes."_

_"Good, we have time then. Feel like doing a competition?"_

_"Yes?!?"_

_"Good, Gabriel. I quit. take your snooty, stuck up asinine self, and kindly go fuck yourself, you twat!"_

The Orchestra had a round of chuckling, whispers of Gabriel deserving what he got. Then as Aziraphale turned and was going to leave, four Orchestra people stood up in defense of Aziraphale.

_"You're going to need more than just the two of you, would mind if we joined you?"_

Pepper, Adam, Wendslydale, and Brian all waited for an answer as they offered their help. Showing solidarity against Gabriel and his horrible ways, tired of his bullying. Aziraphale smiled brightly as he looked between the four and Crowley.

_"Yes, that would be wonderful!! Can you come to the club tomorrow night?"_

_"Bet your ass, we'll be there, Aziraphale, also, congrats on finding that one, it's nice to see a couple in love."_

Aziraphale turned bright red hearing the words ~in love~, were they, was it that easy to see, Aziraphale didn't know. He knew they were right and in love with Crowley, but was Crowley in love with him. Crowley smirked as a flush of color, adorned his cheeks.

Crowley realized that the feeling in the pit of his stomach and the way his heart raced when he saw Aziraphale was, in fact, love. He loved his Angel, but how did that happen, and he did not know, turning to look at Aziraphale, it all made senes, and he knew it was true.

Leaving the Hall, Crowley turned to look at Gabriel, still smiling, flipped him off as Aziraphale dragged him out the Concert Hall door.

As they left, Aziraphale could swear he heard the Orchestra still chuckling. He would have to check into that later, right now though he wanted to be as far away from here as possible. Opening the door to the parking lot, they could hear Gabriel yelling; Aziraphale clearly heard Pepper call him a ~Twat~ as they left.

_"Where's the car?"_

_"Over there in the back?!?"_

_"Let's go then, we'll have to practice and use Tomorrow Land as a test run to see what we can do. Plus, we have more people it'll make us sound even better. "_

Aziraphale stopped for a moment and looked at Crowley, stepping towards he reached up, sliding Crowley's glasses down just a touch, leaving them at the edge of his nose. Looking into those eyes, Aziraphale made sure Crowley knew what he thought.

_"Just so you know, don't ever think that leaving us, or anything that comes along, is more important than us..."_

Crowley silently nodded; Aziraphale had never shown this side of himself. Assertive, confident, Crowley liked it; he just nodded to whatever Aziraphale wanted. As they reached the car, Aziraphale smiled somewhat as he turned to look at Crowley.

Before Crowley knew what was happening, Aziraphale had turned him towards the car, pressed him up against the door, and decidedly kissed him senseless. Crowley desperately kissed him back; Aziraphale smirked as he bit Crowleys lower lip. Angelically blue eyes sparkled for Crowley, want, need and so much were in those eyes, Crowley could only shiver under their intensity.

_"So, where are we going?"_

_"Club."_

Crowley disappointedly growled out, but he wasn't going to press where this kiss would have gone; he knew he had plans at the club.

It was Sunday, and the club was closed. On Sundays, Crowley had control of the club to practice, change things out, connect new equipment, or play the piano as he liked. Today though, they pulled up to an empty club. Aziraphale looked between the empty club and Crowley.

_"Is it closed?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Why are we here then?"_

_"You'll see, grab your violin and let's go in."_

Aziraphale nodded, taking his violin with him, he followed Crowley into the darkened club, only a few emergency lights were on to light the way. Crowley knew the way even in the dark, Aziraphale held onto Crowley's hand, he heard the click of wall switches and the DJ booth lit up.

Crowley let go of Aziraphale's hand, going up to the booth, turning all the switches on. Watching the stage, Aziraphale smiled, lights dancing back and forth along the blackened stage floor. The mirror finish reflecting the rays back up into the air catching the mist that floated down from the ceiling. Stars sparkled in the mist on the stage, raining down all around him, beautiful.

Aziraphale stepped up, putting his hand out, catching the stars, and making them dance as he moved. Crowley watched his Angel, thinking to himself of how and what Aziraphale had just given up, for him, for Crowley. As Crowley looked at Aziraphale out on the stage floor, he realized something, the feeling in his chest really was love.

He was in love with Aziraphale, the realization shocking him for a moment, taking any words from him that he might say. It was too early to say anything, wasn't it? Later, maybe Aziraphale didn't feel that Crowley could only hope. Hope.

Aziraphale smiled, watching as Crowley pulled the piano back to the center of the stage. Waiting for Aziraphale to pick what to play, only Aziraphale, only with him playing together. They were together, in both music and in love. Crowley started playing as Aziraphale picked the song to play.

Feeling the song in his heart, Crowley let the music flow through him; Aziraphale looked at him as he played. There was feeling in the strings of his violin; this song was for Crowley. Maybe Aziraphale did feel the same way. Aziraphale playing warmed and captured Crowley's heart and soul. Crowley was Aziraphale's, and he would tell Aziraphale that he wanted to be his.

Finishing the song, Crowley smiled, clicking a button on the remote that he held in his hand. Placing it on the piano, the lights shifted, golds, silvers floated through the air as Crowley walked up to Aziraphale. Bowing to him, offering his hand to Aziraphale. Aziraphale put his violin on the top of the piano and took Crowley's hand being pulled into a dance.

Crowley smiled, feeling Aziraphale gently press himself against Crowley. Looking at Crowley, Aziraphale carefully reached up, sliding the glasses off Crowley's face. Loving his eyes, Aziraphale smiled, getting that much closer as they swayed back in forth with each other. Turning every now and then, Aziraphale sighed; this was the best day.

Crowley pulled Aziraphale up, looking into eyes that more love in them than he ever realized, lower his head brushing his lips over Aziraphale, looking for a quickly answered kiss by him. Tilting his head, Aziraphale pushed himself up on his toes to kiss Crowley. Warm, soft lips brushed over Crowleys. Still, they dance, only a swaying now in each other's arms.

Lost in each other's being, the dance slowly devolved into something else. This kiss was different; there was a spark of lightning that went through them, a kiss turning from hope to want, and now need.

Music played in the background, changing to other songs that neither heard or cared to. The lights continued to dance around them as they kissed within the mist that held nebulas of stars.


	8. The First Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley sets up the first of many  
> practices before Tomorrow Land  
> for the newly formed group of Adam,   
> Pepper, Brian, Wedneslydale, and unexpectedly  
> finding Anathema and Newt to join.
> 
> As the group says their goodbyes  
> no one notices the shadowy  
> figure watching.
> 
> A strange dynamic shifts   
> between Crowley and Aziraphale.  
> Crowley can't quite put his finger  
> on it but he definitely likes it.
> 
> Maybe Aziraphale isn't as angelically   
> innocent as Crowley thought.
> 
> Uh-oh!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new tags or anything.
> 
> A separate Explicit chapter will  
> be added, it won't be needed to  
> continue the story.

**Chapter 8**

_The First Practice_

**[Chapter Playlist DJ(8)](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4cqsgCxhldrVKIv5avRQm-) **

Crowley arrived at the club early and proceeded to get the equipment ready for practice; as he waited for the group to arrive, he fidgeted with the layout. Thinking of the previous day when Aziraphale had stood up to Gabriel, quitting the orchestra, for himself and for him, standing up for him, for Crowley. Remembering how the others stood up and followed Aziraphale out the door and into Crowley's group.

Maybe this would be his way back into playing with an orchestra, take back that chance that Gabriel had stolen from him.

Pulling the piano closer to the DJ booth made it easier for Crowley to place his DJ equipment on top of the piano, so as he played, he could easily reach up and change the tempos, beats, and rhythms. Crowley was excited; he felt giddy inside for the first time in a long time about his music. Though he would be lying to himself if he said it was the first time, Aziraphale had made his insides turn into tingly mush every time he was near.

Feeling the pull in his stomach, the way his heart fluttered, the tingle in his spine whenever he thought of Aziraphale. The kiss in the water. Aziraphale's warmth, even in the water against him, sent shivers through Crowley. Made so much worse when he touched him, kissing him set Crowley aflame. He needed Aziraphale in so many ways though he wasn't about to admit it.

The word love filtered into his thoughts, invading them, growing and nurturing the word, dreams, and feelings. Crowley tried to shake the word, the feeling from him, but the harder he tried, the more it settled into his heart until it couldn't be denied.

Crowley sighed, leaning against the piano, realizing he was, in fact, in love with Aziraphale. Everything about him grew in Crowley; his touch, voice, and way he played the violin amazed and astonished him. At times it seemed sexual to Crowley; the way Aziraphale would look at him while he played was sinfully delicious.

Crowley turned on the power and flipped the switches to the DJ booth. Watching as the lights came on. Always loving to see the lights come on and dance across the stage before the mist was added. Seeing the sparkle of stars floating in midair always made him feel complete, somehow like he was creating galaxies and nebulas.

Looking over to the backside of the stage facing the DJ booth, Crowley had placed out four chairs and set up the music stands Aziraphale had provided him. Stopping for a moment, he wondered if he should put out more chairs just incase more followed Aziraphale. Really though, as he looked, Crowley stopped counting on more and was just happy with the four that were coming, the four that stood up against Gabriel with Aziraphale. That would be enough.

Placing his fingers on the glowing buttons, Crowley started to make a rhythm and a beat; listening to it made him smile, and soon there would be musical instruments, playing live intertwined with his music; he was thrilled. The waiting was killing him; he wanted to do it now, but he knew his fussy Angel would have to have everything right before he would show up. Fussy Angel, he thought to himself, pressing another glowing ember, smirking at the thought.

Settling in on the piano bench, Crowley touched the leather padding; it was cool to his touch, he could feel his nerves, something he hadn't felt since Gabriel. It was good to feel nervous, but he was anxious he wanted to do right by all of these people, especially Aziraphale. Crowley wanted to do so much more to Aziraphale as he let his thoughts wander; having wonderful dreams was one thing, but as he sat there and slowly touched the keys, the feeling would be so much better.

Crowley was lost in his thoughts and never noticed nor heard when Pepper, Aziraphale, and the rest entered the club. The group quietly stood at the base of the stage listening to Crowley play little songs on the piano, nothing that screamed out, pianist. They all watched as Crowley played with the DJ equipment making beats, tempo changes, every now, and then touch the piano's keys. Pepper watched and listened before turning to Aziraphale, a concerned look on her face, and her lips were drawn slightly into a grimace...

"I know he can do the whole DJ thing, but can he really play the piano? Gabriel said he couldn't, and that was why he banned him. We need a real pianist Aziraphale, I am trusting you but, can he play really?"

Crowley heard that his heart sank. He hadn't even heard them come in, not only that they were listening to him simply goof around with the piano and DJ equipment. Already the question, if he could play, was asked to Aziraphale; drawing his fingers back from the piano, he sat there his head slightly down, looking at the keys.

"Yes, Pepper, most assuredly. Crowley is an amazing pianist, probably one of the best I have ever heard. I would most certainly back him, what is it they say ten out of ten would recommend."

That was all Crowley needed to hear before his fingers started to dance on the piano keys. Pepper turned to watch Crowley, amazement in her eyes. Adam, Brain, and Wensdlydale heard Crowley playing and, without a second thought, went to set up as they listened to a dedicated pianist play the piano.

Pepper looked from Aziraphale to Crowley as his fingers were placed on the piano, the song came to an end. Crowley looked back at Pepper with a slight grin of wickedness and pride.

"Seems I owe you an apology, Crowley. Truly, my sincerest apologies Crowley, quite obviously, Gabriel has been lying to all of us for a long time. You truly are an amazing pianist."

"NgK...thanks, Pepper."

Quickly looking away from Pepper as the compliment was laid across him, the blush barely hidden by the darkened lights. Crowley didn't take well to compliments, especially about his playing the piano.

The reaction that Crowley had to a compliment didn't go unnoticed by Aziraphale.

"Okay then, before we get started, and as far as I know, we are using Tomorrow Land as a practice, I checked, and we can do that. So we're good there, I already signed us in with Crowley."

Waving her hands around to call over the rest to see the paperwork she had confiscated from Gabriel when he wasn't looking. Smiling as the group huddled for a moment, they looked at Pepper; it wasn't stealing really, it was borrowing, she told herself, and to that, she was sticking to her guns about it...

"Okay, now for the actual competition, there are fifteen different groups, including us. The rules are as follows, and we have to follow them, or we will be disqualified."

Pepper pointed to each rule with her finger explaining every bit to the group. Everyone concentrated, some took notes to not forget, but Crowley took the paperwork into the booth to set the equipment to meet the competition's specs.

"So, each instrument has to do a solo, which means you too, Crowley, something amazing that no one else will play. I am sure you can figure it out. Then for the rest, it is the music we want to play, it's free, but there have to be parts where each instrument is heard within the rest of the music."

Pepper looked at everyone, waiting for a nod of their hear head.

"Good, so let's get started. Really let's start with all together music, DJ away Crowley, with a little piano, please. See how we do without practice."

Aziraphale smiled brightly as he went to take out his violin. Smiling just a smidge too cleverly as he pulled out the one violin he loved, the one that Gabriel forbade him to play.

Crowley watched as the Bluetooth dongle was plugged into the speaker. Lights glimmered in the violin, perfectly clear, lights danced; as Azirphale placed the violin under his chin, he smiled as the bow lit, a tap of the violin and what looked like fire erupted from the strings. Glowing, burning, ember like lights danced along with Aziraphales flaming bow.

"Think this will work?"

Aziraphale smirked as he dragged the bow over the strings. Crowley smiled at his Angel, his everything, his love? Maybe.

"Yeah, that'll do, Angel."

Crowley shook his head as he played the beats, hearing the cellos pluck strings and play with the music he created. His fingers dancing on the pianos keys. Beautiful music the group played. Aziraphale played the violin with the music as though this group had been playing for years. Gabriel was in trouble, and they all knew it.

Notes continued until all of them were brought into play, Aziraphales violin played as though it were crying out to the others only to be answered by the call of the cellos, Crowley placed his fingers in the glowing embers on his piano top. The beat swept them all into a perfect harmonization that all cried out as their own version of the Moonlight Sonata was played.

Anathema had come with Aziraphale; she couldn't stop the tears that welled in her eyes at the beauty of what she was hearing. She sat there, debating if she should tell them or offer her voice if they needed it. Anathema had grown up singing opera with her mother, but it just never went anywhere for her; she couldn't find the right fit, but as she looked on, maybe this group of misfits was what and where she needed to fit.

Looking back at the stage, she took a few steps closer but waited; Aziraphale had started to play on his own no other instruments. A nod of his head brought the cellos to life, a steady tempo of Crowley's drums played in the background. The song went on with just that, notes, beats, it was lovely, but as Anathema looked at Crowley, she saw a grin, right before he pulled the entire group into dub rift.

That was enough to pull her up onto the stage; Crowley noticed her first and then the rest. Motioning her hands to continue, Anathema went and sat on the DJ Booths stairs and waited till they finished. It was absolutely beautiful, she thought to herself, it made her want to be apart of this and part of whatever their plans were. She waited.

Waves of music poured over her, the sway of her body, sitting on the booths stair caused her to close her eyes and simply feel. Feel each string played, feel when the bass kicked in as it vibrated her very being. Anathema was amazed; she had been coming here for a long time but had never heard Crowley play anything quite like this. It was beautiful, hauntingly so.

Slowly but surely, the music faded, coming to an end, then all five of them were in perfect synch, they each turned to look at Anathema. Feeling rather on display, with five different looks of an answer and expectations, Anathema stood silently, feeling her heartbeat start climbing.

"So, umm, that was really nice, well better than nice. I was wondering, well could you use a singer?"

Anathema felt the blood rushing into her head, hearing her own heart pounding in her ears. Her face must be red, she thought, she could feel her cheeks burn. Still, no one said anything.

"I'll just be off then..?"

Anathema turned to leave feeling like a fool for thinking that they would need a singer anyway, how foolish, naive, and embarrassing.

"Anathema stop, of course, we do. I just had no idea you were, or you could, can you?"

Crowley called out after her, seeing her turn and come back to the stage made him smile even more expansive.

"What can you sing?"

"I was brought up on opera, but I can sing whatever you need."

Anathema smiled, crawling up onto the stage that was always just a tad too high, and she was a tad to low. Eventually, she managed it was fine.

Newt had been watching from the dark corner of the club, listening to the music, seeing the flaming bow that Aziraphale wielded like a sword, and the rest. It wasn't until Anathema had crawled up onto the stage that he raised his hand, walking towards the group.

"Oi, I can play the drums if you like; you wouldn't have to worry about that part Crowley."

Crowley turned, still smirking ear to ear at this point.

"You think you can, I mean we've done it before, but when the club was closed, when was the last time you played in front of a crowd.?

"Never, but there's always a first time for everything, plus I can get my feet wet at Tomorrow Land; if I can't, it's no big issue you can pull it in on your equipment."

Crowley nodded in agreement.

"I think that's doable, I'll just have it ready on my end, and you learn it on yours, deal?

"Deal."

With the closing of a demons deal, the group agreed to meet the following afternoon. Now that drums and microphones were needed to be brought in. They had their plan, they had their group, now it was practice and practice. Newt suggested using the Club Nights to test new sounds or finished songs and see how the crowd reacted. Crowley agreed, saying it was the best idea Newt had ever had.

"Oh well, thanks a lot, Crowley, your arse!"

"Oh, you are most welcome, Always here to help!"

Aziraphale said goodbye to everyone, and of course, Crowley had offered him a ride home in his car, which he all too excitedly accepted. The acceptance rate made Crowley tilt his head, one in confusion, and two out of the way it was received.

Aziraphale had been standing near Crowley when he asked before the final word was even out of his mouth, Aziraphale had come to stand by him, gone up on tiptoe, and placed a kiss on his cheek while saying yes. Crowley blinked; this was Aziraphale's first attempt to show any involvement with Crowley, in public, in front of everyone.

Crowley was taken aback in a good way, standing up for him and now showing affection. This was just getting better and better. Looking down slightly at he smiling Angel, something about that smirk caused Crowley to shiver. There was a hidden heat somewhere within it.

Aziraphale took Crowley's hand in his. The thought of the lake and the way Aziraphale's hand fit so perfectly within his own. Warm, inviting, soft, making Crowley want to feel those hands everywhere on him.

Crowley could have sworn he heard a little growl in there, but Aziraphale didn't growl, right? He had to have been hearing things Aziraphale was an angel, but he wondered what he was in for if he wasn't wrong. The thought of a growling Aziraphale made something in his spine want to break, dragging a shiver out of him that he had hoped Aziraphale hadn't noticed just in case he was wrong.

Aziraphale grinned; he didn't miss it; in fact, he felt it completely. Felt the shiver that went through Crowley, felt the slight tightening on his hand. Aziraphale was wickedly smirking inside, covering it by talking. Still, it was there. Crowley kept side glancing Aziraphale; something was different; something had changed in their dynamic.

Crowley wasn't sure what it was; all he did know for certain was he liked whatever it was.

The group walked out of the club together, all waving and saying their goodbyes. Smiles abounded on everyone's face, this was a chance to play and show what they could really do without the interference of Gabriel, or at least they thought. No one saw the shadowy figure that lurked by the club watching, watching.

Opening the car door for Aziraphale, who slowly slid into the car, yet somehow kept his eyes locked onto Crowleys. Even from behind his shaded glasses, Crowley felt Aziraphale's heated glance. He couldn't move; he felt himself melting; there was a fire behind those blue eyes now. Crowley watched almost mesmerized as Aziraphale's pupils dilated never losing the hold they had on Crowley.

Swallowing and swallowing hard; Crowley could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end, the lightning fill his spine. Crowley was in trouble but in a good way, most definitely a good way. Though, he would wait for any inclination of what Azirapahle wanted and gladly give it to him.

Crowley was daft.

Crowley drove them to Aziraphale's cottage; just seeing the lake brought back memories. The closer they got to the cottage, the more Crowley could feel bouncing about the car. Secretly catching the glances Aziraphale was throwing his way, no, he wasn't just looking at Crowley, he was devouring him.

Crowley pulled into the drive, hearing the gravel under his tired brought some form of grounding to his somewhat heightened feeling. Sliding out of his car, the gravel under his shoes, the sound concentrate on the sound, the feeling of the cool night's breezes, cooling his cheeks that were flaming.

Walking to the other side of the car to open Aziraphale's door, Crowley stopped. Aziraphale was already out of the car and standing in front of. Crowley was far too alert for this, something had to give, yet Aziraphale stood there drinking in Crowley's very existence, all-consuming. Crowley found that he wanted whatever was going to happen, as long as it involved being able to touch his Angel.

Aziraphale's wickedly unangellic grin came to the surface as he looked at Crowley, slowly from his shoes to those shaded glasses. Crowley felt the heat grow in him; this was his Angel, right? The term angel was wearing very thin at the moment; a quick thought of jumping in the car and speeding away was quickly squashed.

"Shall we?"

~Heaven help me.~ Was all Crowley could think, nodding, he turned to follow an angel into his cottage.


	9. Of Saints and Sinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EXPLICIT CHAPTER - NOT NEEDED FOR STORY CONTINUATION
> 
> Finally alone with  
> nowhere else to be  
> our beloved idiots enjoy  
> each other!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure smut
> 
> Explicit Smut
> 
> Over 6k words of smut and  
> is not needed to continue  
> the story if you don't like this.

**Chapter 9**

_Of Saints and Sinners_

[Of Saints and Sinners - EXPLICIT](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi6KtiAuXmlASPmBNj5VBNa1)

Walking up the cobblestone pathway that led to Aziraphale's cottage had Crowley trying to keep his breathing in check. Every step he took moved Aziraphale's hand on his back, drawing hushed gasps; each little squeeze was tempting Crowley to wrap himself around Aziraphale. Crowley saw it only once as he glanced next to him, that little quirk of a smirk on his angel's face.

Approaching the cottage, Aziraphale handed his keys to Crowley, who he had lovingly guided to the door. There was something in the way Aziraphale had his hand on the small of Crowleys back, causing him to look from the keys to the locked door in front of him; taking a deep breath, Crowley unlocked the cottage door, swinging it open. Gentle darkness had started to fill and overflow the cottage as the sun was setting over the lake.

There was a change in feeling as Crowley stepped into Aziraphale's cottage; it was heavy, it was wanton, and it had taken residence somewhere in his pelvis. Burning its way up his spine into the base of his head, he felt the warmth, the want. Trying as hard as he could to reign it in, it grew. Nothing had even happened; Aziraphale had simply walked him to his cottage, right?

Aziraphale's hand left Crowleys back, the warmth once there fading quickly, Crowley found himself wanting it back. A single light lit somewhere behind him, turning he found Aziraphale lighting the candles on his mantle and elsewhere about the room. No words were being spoken, the silence becoming deafening; he needed to hear Aziraphale make a noise, anything.

The weight of silence was embedding itself within Crowley's ears; every sound, no matter how soft, was becoming noticeable, playing on his exposed nerves. Watching Aziraphale light each candle and at each and every candle, he would stop, look at Crowley taking in a full-body sweep. Each look becoming slower and slower, leaving Crowley a trembling mess; taking a breath, he tried to calm himself.

Crowley had never felt as though he were prey before, least of all in his own thoughts; this was a mild-mannered violinist, no this was Aziraphale. So why did he feel he was being hunted. This was just, well, it was backward; Crowley should be the one doing the hunting, but instead, he found himself on the receiving end; most surprising to him, he liked it. Crowley wasn't even sure what this was yet, but every bone in his body ached for Aziraphales touch.

Aziraphale still said nothing, once in a while looking back at Crowley, an oh so innocently placed smile emitted more than words as that smiled burned its way through Crowleys very being. Blue eyes were lit at each candle, making sure that Crowley saw where and what he looked at, leaving him to his own devices in the middle of the room.

Candles cast angels of light across the room, only to be chased down by shadows of want and need. Across the ceilings, the light and shadows danced together, intertwining themselves. Intentionally or not, the effect was working rather well on Crowley, another smile this one slightly different, a languid glance from the shaded glasses down Crowley's front, stopping for a moment too long on Crowleys all too-tight jeans.

Crowley felt that heated stare as his jeans were already borderline uncomfortable, now though, there was no question of how tight they really were. Standing there in silent amazement at how quickly Aziraphale was losing that angelic name. This was Aziraphale; more so, this was a side of Aziraphale he had not bargained for; nothing could have prepared Crowley for this. He wouldn't have believed it.

Aziraphale walked over to Crowley, letting his fingers dance along Crowley's arm. Stopping behind him, breathing, he told himself as Aziraphale's hands touched his shoulders, offering to take his jacket. Looking over his shoulder, a smile greeted him, and that particular smile said so much more than words ever could.

"Let me take your coat, dear, we won't be needing that."

Crowley nodded, wanting to feel Aziraphale's fingers on him; still, the angel was clever, only the jacket sliding off of bared arms was felt. Aziraphale kept his fingers purposely off of Crowley, only taking the coat, throwing it over the arm of one of the chairs in the room, silence.

Aziraphale left the room, walking towards his kitchen as though he couldn't feel anything out of the ordinary, couldn't feel the swelling of need and want within Crowley. Following silently behind Aziraphale, leaning slightly through the door to take a look. What was Aziraphale up too? Hearing ice clink into glasses, Crowley's senses were slowly heightening without him even realizing.

The clink of the ice, the sound of the pop of a cork from whiskey, the excitement of possibly being discovered watching what Aziraphale was doing. All of it perfectly orchestrated, causing Crowley to be on edge in a never-ending sonata of building frustration. Unnoticed at first. He could feel the charge of electricity traveling through the air. Welcoming the electricities kiss on his arms, sending shivers through him.

Breezes from the lake blew through the cottage, tickling Crowleys very being, the lights danced around the room as shadows chased them, the curtains blowing in the breeze seemed to have a sound that Crowley could hear. Distracted for a moment as his senses were being overloaded, only two remained, making him ache—taste and touch.

"Crowley, my dear, would you like a drink?"

A voice far more silken, somehow commanded an answer. Crowley felt Aziraphale's voice caress his ears, his neck, settling in the top of his spine, slowly sliding down like fingers tracing the outline of every vertebra, leaving a trail of hellfire in their wake.

Crowley tried to walk into the kitchen, tried to answer his voice was nowhere to be found. It was just around the corner, the very corner he had been peeking around. Aziraphale knew he was there the entire time, letting the silence weigh heavily on Crowley. Allowing the change in dynamic that Crowley didn't even know was there descend onto his serpent.

Crowley's feet wouldn't move; he was stuck. Instead, he peeked back into the kitchen, not expecting blue eyes to be right around the corner holding two glasses of whiskey. Crowley gasped with a start; Aziraphale held up a drink for Crowley to take. Crowley's fingers gingerly wrapped around the glass, wet, cold. Touch. A tinkle of ice, Aziraphale let his fingers drag over Crowleys, feeling as if lightning had struck his spine.

Soft, inviting, teasingly slow as fingers touched and were dragged away from the glass, leaving a trail of slippery ice-cold water. Never in Crowley's life had receiving a glass of whiskey been as sexually charged as this had. Every feeling traveled to places unknown on his body, places he was growing desperate for Aziraphale to discover, touch, taste.

Crowley's hands were trembling, just enough to hear ice making its own music in his glass. Bringing it to his lips, Crowley took a long settling drink of whiskey; he needed it. Taste.

Aziraphale grinned as he watched, ~not yet~ he thought.

Aziraphale looked at those damned sunglasses but made no movement to reach them.

Aziraphale took a sip of his whiskey as Crowley unintentionally watched with undivided attention. He watched as the rim of the glass touched a full lower lip, how the tip of the glass let the amber liquid flow over the now parted lips of his angel, hearing the clink of ice. Aziraphale licked over his upper lip with a smirk, knowing precisely what he was doing.

Crowley's knees almost gave out, and Aziraphale hadn't even touched him yet. Still, somehow he was producing a full assault on his senses; Crowley felt everything, his body begging for what he wanted for what he needed. Aziraphale hadn't even done anything to him and was making no effort to touch him.

Oh god, what had he gotten himself into was all Crowley could think, between the assault on his senses, his mind was turning to mush. Crowley finally found some semblance of footing, turning away from Aziraphale and taking another drink of whiskey. Crowley heard the clink of glass on a tabletop behind him before he realized the hands that slid up his back, the body that pressed him up against the bookcase, his chest touching the shelves.

An audible hitch in his breath escaped his lips, not going unnoticed by Aziraphale. Crowley felt Aziraphale's hands slowly, tentatively sliding up the sides of his arms, raising them over his head. Still holding the whiskey in one hand, not letting it spill...

"Is this alright, Crowley?"

Oh, for fucks sake, was it alright? It was far more than alright. It was a relief to be touched, but how could his voice sound like that? Crowley felt the room spin for a split second as Aziraphale's voice drifted over his ear, nodding was all Crowley seemingly could do.

"Let me hear you, Crowley, I can stop if you like..."

Oh, for Satan's sake, no, don't stop. Crowley felt his breathing turn almost panicky as words, what were words, he needed to say them. What he wanted to say was ~Yes, please take me, oh god anything you want, please.~ Though all that he could muster and all that came out was...

"No, please, yes, yes."

"Lovely, don't drop your drink, my dear, I would hate to have a mess to clean up. Well, at least that kind of mess."

Crowley's eyes shut on their own accord as soon as Aziraphale whispered into his ear. ~That kind of mess~. Aziraphale let his weight press against Crowley, slowly dragging his manicured nails down Crowley's arms, raising goosebumps at every touch. Crowley willingly welcomed the weight against him; he felt grounded, somehow safer, and not so flighty.

Aziraphale's hands slide further down Crowley's arms, finally touching softer, barely there, as hands glanced over his sides, his waist, stopping at his hips. Crowley's breath quickened with each touch, almost stopping as Aziraphale's hands stopped moving. Crowley could feel the heat behind him, could swear he could feel Aziraphale's stare.

A clink of ice in the glass that Crowleys held gained him a squeeze of his hips, pulling them towards Aziraphale. Another clink of ice and Aziraphale stepped just slightly back, earning him a hushed whimper. Crowley blinked. Did that come from him, he had never heard that noise ever, but he desperately didn't want Aziraphale to move away from him.

"Don't drop your drink, my dear...do be good for me, won't you?."

Well fuck, hold the glass, he could do that, right? He sure as hell was going to try; he wanted to do what Aziraphale said, a single breath of air the brush of lips against the back of his neck and hellfire took over his body, everywhere a supposed angel touch.

"Yessss..."

Crowley's words were hissed out, fingers gripped onto his hips, pulling him flush with Aziraphale, a gentle bite, a warm kiss. Hands slid further down Crowley, stopping on the front of his thighs, no closer to where Crowley wanted them. Moving his hips or at least trying to be touched more, the ice clinked again.

The glass tipped, the sound of the ice brought Crowley back to the here and now. The coolness on his body was all-encompassing; Aziraphale had let go, had moved back from him. ~Oh, please, no, don't let go~ Crowleys body screamed at him...Stepping backward, he tried to find the warmth that was once there.

"Please, no."

Aziraphale smirked, letting Crowley place himself back up against him, still holding the glass of whiskey. Pressing himself back against Crowley, Crowley stood there, holding the whiskey in his hand. Placing his hands ever so slowly back where they were, pressing himself that much closer against Crowley, he shifted his hips against him.

Crowley's knees almost gave out feeling Aziraphale up against him, feeling that Aziraphale wanted Crowley just as much, he pushed his hips firmer against Aziraphale. A growing hardness was pressing itself against his jeans, delicate hands slid over Crowleys growing erection. With a groan, Crowley let his forehead fall against the books of the bookcase.

"Don't drop it, love."

Love? That word made him shiver, a word. An endearment, taking a shuttering breath, trying not to fall, but what he really wanted to do was fall. Crowley wanted to fall and feel the flames of Aziraphale's love; he wanted this. Wanted to be burned by his touch, he needed it, an evergrowing feeling swirling in his very being. Feel his tongue drag and dance over him, lighting him on fire.

Crowley held his glass. Feeling Aziraphale behind him, sliding hands over him, stopping to tease over his erection, his breath hesitant pants. Crowley concentrated on that glass, finally at some point, his mind letting him see that the drink was keeping him grounded, something to help keep him from floating away on the wings of Aziraphale.

Crowley lost track of the glass for only a moment, feeling his Tee Shirt being slide out from under his pants. Open, bare skin feeling the coolness of the room, chilling his overheated flesh.

"You will tell me if it's too much, and you want me to stop, won't you, my dear?"

Crowley nodded, a very affirmative nod, one that was so anxiously taken without an ounce of doubt had Aziraphale smile. Accepting that it was okay, Aziraphale let his hands slide under the tee-shirt, finally touching far more delicate skin.

Aziraphale's hands traveled over Crowley's slender form, over ever delicious ab, every indent, feeling over his ribs, along the curved side of his waist. Dancing along the waistband of Crowley's jeans, tentatively dipping just below the fabric sliding over Crowley's hipbones, Aziraphale felt his mouth water. Aziraphale couldn't ignore the fact that his want was an evergrowing need and was becoming ever apparent.

Trembling, Crowley took a deep breath, one that Aziraphale heard and felt. A light growl behind Crowley almost made him lose his glass of whiskey, the sound of whiskey sloshing in the glass before silencing as Crowley regained concentration. Aziraphale had stopped for only a moment before fingers touched and teased at Crowley's nipples.

Crowley wanted more, but Aziraphale was taking his time, he controlled this, and it was only beginning. ~Concentrate on the drink Crowley~ became a chant in his mind feeling Aziraphale explore and touch the bared skin under his shirt.

Touching Aziraphale was rapidly becoming a necessity; he ached to touch him, wanted to feel and taste all that was Aziraphale. Dragging a moan from Crowley, Aziraphale slid his hands over his hardened cock. Fingers played with the button and zipper that held a barrier that Crowley no longer wanted there.

"Please, Aziraphale..."

"Gladly, my love."

That endearment again, Crowley's head was spinning, he didn't want to hold that damned glass anymore, but the alternative of Aziraphale stopping kept that glass above Crowley's head. Crowley felt the button release, heard, and felt the zipper as it let go.

He could breathe a touch easier, for a moment, only a moment. Still, too tight pants were in the way. Aziraphale started to slide Crowley's jeans down, no further than his knees. Standing back up fully, Aziraphale pulled Crowley by his hips, grinding into him enough to relieve some of the pressure he was not acknowledging; this was about Crowley and everything he had stopped himself from doing in the lake.

The smile that once graced an angellic face was replaced by want, need. Hands danced over Crowley's silken boxers, groaning at the feeling, at the sheer amount of desire. Aziraphale eased Crowleys head back against his shoulder. Letting his hand slide under the boxers, touching, fingers following his length, teasing his cock to harden even more in fingers that wrapped around him like the neck of a violin.

Crowley's breathing hitched next to Aziraphale's ear, a pant, a gasp, the sound of needing more as he kept Crowley feeling just enough to keep him hard, growing the want of more. Crowley was losing the ability to control the glass above him, feeling the shivering that was wracking Crowley's body. Aziraphale placed one of his hands on Crowley's neck. A thumb on one side of his collarbone, his pointer touching the other side.

"Is this okay, my love?"

"Oh..oh, yes."

Worshipful, heavy, holding him there, Crowley had never wanted someone to fuck him this bad in his entire life. He wanted to drop to his knees and devour Aziraphale, taste him, feel the way his cock would slide over his tongue. Hear the way he would sound as Crowley swallowed him. The glass tipped, almost spilling a tightening grip around his cock, and a stroke took his knees from him.

"You've been so good, Crowley."

Praise, oh, why did he have to praise him, trembling, shivers and a smirk from Aziraphale finding something new, everything was new, but Aziraphale was a quick learner. Feeling the reaction from a simple praise enlightened Aziraphale.

"You feel so good, Crowley, your beautiful like this."

Gasp.

Leaving his fingers loosely around Crowleys cock, Aziraphale slid his fingers over the length of Crowleys cock like he was playing the violin. Panting, breathing became a chase between moans, fueling, and making Aziraphale tighten his grip in between each stroke, each sound gained Aziraphale a little more weight of Crowleys.

"Do you want me to taste you? Do you want to push into my mouth Crowley, slide yourself over my tongue?"

"...fuck."

"I can do that too if you are good. You will be good, won't you?"

Panting, all Crowley could do was nod; he wanted this, he wanted to do this to Aziraphale. This was fine for now, but it would be his turn soon.

Still holding his drink, as Aziraphale's hand was stroking him, his hand sliding further up his throat till it rested loosely around the base of his throat, turning his Crowley face towards him. Aziraphale kissed Crowley, deeply, desperately letting his hand speed up until one breath was running into another, then it stopped.

Crowley growled under his breath, how was this fair? He wanted more, he needed more this left him teetering on the edge of bliss.

"Would you like to put the glass down?"

"Yes."

"You are so wonderful, Crowley."

Another shiver ran through Crowley. The glass was taken from Crowley, lowering his arms Crowley shook them out. Crowley watched, out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Aziraphale undid the buttons at his wrists, watched as his sleeves were rolled up, baring his forearms.

Crowley felt the twitch in his cock, wondering how that one thing caused such a reaction. Crowley wanted to bend Aziraphale over anything; just seeing the bared skin of his forearms was making him want Aziraphale so much more. To drag his fingers, his teeth, his tongue, to feel those forearms under his fingers...

When Aziraphale finished adjusting the sleeves of his button downed shirt, his fingers undid his bowtie leaving it hanging as the first few buttons were undone, leaving it to hang open just enough to draw in Crowley's stare.

Pressing Crowley back against the bookshelf, one hand held Crowley's wrists together, placing them over his head, this time keeping them firmly there. Aziraphale's free hand touched the glasses that Crowley always wore and hesitated. Waiting for Crowley to answer him in any way of yes or no. Crowley grinned wickedly, turning his head, letting the glasses slide off in Aziraphale's hand. With the flip of his wrist, his glasses were sent into another dimension, neither cared.

Golden suns held blown out pupils, Aziraphale leaned into Crowley, carefully stepping on the pants that were holding Crowley's knees together. Getting one leg out was enough right now. A gentle brush of lips and Aziraphale slipped his knee between Crowley's legs.

"Let me feel you move, my love, show me how well you can move for me."

Crowley was all too eager to please him; a roll of Crowley's hips slid his cock against Aziraphale's thigh; he needed this touch. A moan made itself more than known, Aziraphale answered back, kissing him thoroughly on the mouth. Pulling back, waiting for Crowley's lips to part as they did, Aziraphale kissed him, not an easy kiss, a wantonly filthy kiss. Crowley opened his mouth, letting Aziraphale in, tongue, teeth, the desperation to taste the other.

Aziraphale let go of Crowleys hands, bringing them to grip onto slender hips, moving them against his thigh, grinding himself against Crowley. The need was overtaking want, the deliciousness of touching was fueling Aziraphale, he wanted more, wanted to hear more of Crowley's moans. Aziraphale pulled back from the kiss, leaving Crowley breathless.

Grinning, like a starving man finding his favorite food in the world to devour, Aziraphale dropped to his knees in front of Crowley. Pulling down wet silken boxers, precum having seeped into them. Before Crowley even registered that his angel was on his knees in front of him and what his intentions were, Crowley felt the warmth of Aziraphale's mouth wrapping around his cock.

~Oh God...~ Crowley couldn't think, his hands instinctively twisting into Aziraphale's hair. Carefully pressing deeper into his mouth, pulling back out. Aziraphale let Crowley cock slide out of his mouth, his tongue gliding over the underside of his shaft, flicking over the tip to taste him. Watching as Crowleys eyes dilated, seeing the precum on the tongue of his angel, disappearing into his mouth.

Crowley had never thought to thank a bookcase for anything, though currently, he was singing its praises for holding him upright as his knees shook, threatening to give out.

Aziraphale placed his hand over Crowleys in his hair; it took only a moment to know what Aziraphale wanted from him; he was all too willing. Using his hands, Crowley pulled and pushed into Aziraphale's mouth, hitting the back fo his throat, almost losing it as the gag squeezed over the tip of his cock; Aziraphale wasn't done.

Reaching up, Aziraphale took Crowley's hand in his own, pulling it out of his hair. Standing in front of a very on edge demon, he couldn't help but smirk, reaching into Crowley's hair, pulling his mouth to his own, running his tongue over Crowley's lips, slowly parting his lips allowing Crowley to dip into his mouth.

Dragging a low pleading moan from Crowley, Aziraphale kept that hand in Crowley's hair, kissing him deeper, breathlessly. Crowley noticed Aziraphale's very nimble fingers slowly undoing one button at a time, finally reaching his shirt's last button.

Crowley had had enough of waiting, sliding his hands under Aziraphale's shirt, linking his hands behind his back, pulling his body flush with Aziraphale's. Breaking the kiss and following Aziraphale's jawline with bites, kisses finally reaching his neck, Aziraphale pulled and pulled hard.

"Oh,"

Crowley moaned; he liked that far more than he thought; maybe it was Aziraphale, perhaps it was his strength. All Crowley knew was Aziraphale already had him walking on the sharpened edge of a blade twice. Patience wasn't a real virtue of Crowley. In fact, he rarely practiced, except apparently for when it came to Aziraphale.

He had waited, never pushed, never asked, never expected but now that they were here, patience was only to make sure they both were on the same page. Aziraphale bit Crowleys neck, pulling his hair away from him, and they were definitely on the same page; there was no denying that.

Crowley decided he had been patient enough, and Aziraphale was wearing entirely too much clothing. Definitely not minding following Aziraphale's lead, but this, well, this was long enough, and it was his turn. Smirking as his hands reached up into Aziraphale's hair, closing his hands in platinum curls that were softer than the clouds he swore Azirphale lived on, he pulled.

A sudden gasp, finally a sound that he wanted to hear, contagious that Crowley wanted to hear more than just that. Pulling just a bit more, he felt Aziraphale's grip loosen in his hair; shaking his head, Crowley finally got the upper hand barely. This was going to be fun...

"You are wearing far too much clothing..."

Enflamed blue eyes blinked at the sudden change of position, not that he looked upset or put out, but for the moment, Crowley had Aziraphale's attention to what he wanted. Crowley tilted his head as he pulled on Aziraphale's hair, watching as he let his eyes close.

Crowley pulled the shirt off of Aziraphale, smirking as he drew a line down Aziraphale's chest with his free hand. Light blonde hair graced his chest, sliding his fingers through it back up; seeing the shiver, Crowley smiled. Crowley knew that Aziraphale was strong, yet this was even better.

Aziraphale was soft, but just so perfectly so that Crowley wanted to run his tongue over the invisible line he was tracing on his chest. Crowley felt that pull from Aziraphale, the pull of him trying to get the hand out of his hair, it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Uh, uh, Angel, my turn...what did you say before...Do be good."

Aziraphale stopped pulling, more so from the words whispered in his ear, sending lightning down his spine, but he could let this go for a bit. He could follow Crowley for a while, though he was surprised, it never occurred to him that Crowley would want to lead. This could be fun.

Crowley smiled rather pleased at the change of events. Aziraphale may have been able to control the ebb and flow of mood and how things were going to happen, but Crowley was able to use dirty words more than Aziraphale; he was still too polite.

"As much fun as the bookcase is, let's move to the bedroom...wouldn't want you to get too much burn on your knees."

Aziraphale blinked and tried to look at Crowley, trying to twist away. Crowley didn't let go of Aziraphale's hair; instead, he pulled him into a filthy, desperate, wantonly needy kiss, dragging a moan from Aziraphale. Crowley quickly discovered it was easier to move Aziraphale if he was preoccupied with something else, like Crowley's mouth.

Crowley remembered where Aziraphale had pointed out his bedroom to be. Crowley started to lead them to the bedroom. Aziraphale moved with some pulling, but keeping him occupied was far easier than Crowley thought, until Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by his hips, twisting him around, his hair twisting with it, but he didn't care.

Crowley gasped, feeling the sudden change in position, facing away from Aziraphale, was not where he wanted to be. Aziraphale had to let go to get his hair free; Crowley felt the release of him turning he saw Aziraphale heading for the bedroom.

Crowley chased after him with a growl, reaching for the back of his pants, barely grabbing them, both tumbling to the floor. Crowley was far more agile, managing to twist and pull Aziraphale over, under him. The pants had to go, Aziraphale pushed back only to find a very nimble and serpentine Crowley able to hold him down.

Crowley grinned, straddling Aziraphale holding his hands over his head, dipping his head down, biting and running his tongue along Aziraphale's neck, his throat. The more he held Aziraphale down, the more Aziraphale moved under him, rubbing up against him. Both struggling for control, but not minding in the least.

Crowley finally got enough control over Aziraphale that he reached between them, finishing unbuttoning and unzipping the pants of the writhing angel under him. Aziraphale felt as his pants were being slid off him; he stopped struggling for a moment; after all, they were rather uncomfortable now.

Aziraphale kicked his pants off. Reaching up, he pulled Crowley down to kiss him again, going willingly Crowley found himself on his back. He tried to move Aziraphale over, not so easy when Aziraphale had the weight and strength now that he was on top. Laying his weight between Crowley's legs, he rolled his hips up against Crowleys cock, both moaning feeling the other.

Aziraphale took some of the weight off of Crowley, letting him pull them into the bedroom, never leaving the floor. Crowley moaned and rolled his hips, grinding up against Aziraphale, a whimper leaving him as Aziraphale bit and sucked at his throat.

Aziraphale did it again, wedging a knee between Crowley's legs and pressing between them. Crowley's head dropping back against the plush carpet, partway into the bedroom, moaning as the heat that was Aziraphale scrambled up his body. It was intense, Crowley felt feverish, melting against Aziraphale knee as he rolled his serpentine body against it.

Aziraphale's' hand was down at Crowley's thigh, pulling it up alongside him, fingers pressing Crowley could feel each one. Feeling a an ache blooming, taking hold of his pelvis. Oddly enough for Crowley, he hoped there would be marks left by his angel, so he would know it wasn't a dream when he woke.

"Bed."

Aziraphale demanded, commanded. Pushing up from the floor, pulling Crowley up with him. Crowley pulled Aziraphale back into a kiss as he pushed and pulled him into the bedroom; it was chaotic; neither knew where the other wanted to be. It was delicious as they devoured each other until Crowley pushed Aziraphale as his knees hit the bed, and he went over.

Crowley scrambled over Aziraphale, holding him still like a serpent wrapping around its prey. Slithering down the front of Aziraphale, Crowley licked and bit his way to tartan boxers that were quickly removed. There was no grace anymore; it was desperate, wanton, needful, tempting, all too tempting.

Crowley was done waiting; he had wanted this from the very first he had met this so-called mild-mannered violinist. Aziraphale was far from small, yet again Crowley wasn't either, and he was very good with his mouth. Aziraphale didn't even have a chance to prepare himself for what Crowley was about to do.

Crowley, without hesitation, wrapped his mouth around Aziraphale and swallowed him. Aziraphale gasped loudly as his hands twisted into the bedcovers. Crowley grinned, lathing his tongue up Aziraphale's cock, swallowing him again, lapping at the precum over the tip of Aziraphale's cock, swallowing him again, letting his mouth bob over what was his now.

Aziraphale reached down, finding Crowley's hair, twisting his hand into it, making no move to pull Crowley off of his cock, he held on. Letting Crowley lead for the moment, Aziraphale had made sure to leave himself unattended, the relief alone, and the talent of Crowley's mouth and set him aflame, he needed more.

Crowley wasn't about to have this end. Sliding Aziraphale's cock out of his mouth, he slithered up Aziraphale's body, kissing him, feeling Aziraphale open his mouth, licking into Crowley's mouth, tasting himself, he didn't care; he actually found it more erotic.

Crowley grinned wickedly, pulling away from the kiss, dragging his tongue up Aziraphale's neck, stopping just under his ear...

"Fuck me, Angel..."

Aziraphale felt those words through his entire body, rolling Crowley onto his back, Aziraphale bit and licked every part of Crowley, leaving him a shuddering mess on the bed, even as Aziraphale mouth slid down over Crowleys cock. His fingers pushed and played over Crowley's entrance, Crowley gripped into Aziraphale hair, the bedclothes whatever he could reach.

Aziraphale pushed Crowley's legs back and over his shoulders, letting his tongue slide over Crowley's entrance, dipping in, allowing a single finger slide slowly into Crowley, waiting gently. Slowly Aziraphale held it there, letting his mouth take Crowley into his mouth again.

As soon as Aziraphale felt Crowley relaxed, he added a second, pulling pushing until Crowley was trembling needing more. Aziraphale continued what he was doing, finally adding a third and waiting, Aziraphale made sure his mouth was treating Crowleys cock like it was his last meal.

"Oh Jesus, Azira...fuck me...now."

Rather demanding, Aziraphale grinned, pushing just far enough and curling his finger, barely brushing over Crowley's prostate, Crowley's fingers wrapped into Aziraphale's hair and pulled, hard. Aziraphale scrambled up Crowley, only to find himself on his back with Crowley looming over him.

Crowley had waited long enough having Aziraphale torture him for far longer than was needed, he needed this, needed Aziraphale, and he was going to control it. Aziraphale let him, watching, taking in the beauty that was Crowley, every line, every muscle as it moved under the skin that tasted like heaven to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale let Crowley adjust where he wanted to be, letting his hands slide and touch Crowley everywhere, finally holding him at his thighs. Making sure he stayed his ground and still, Crowley slid himself onto Aziraphale's cock, slowly, Aziraphale gently rubbed Crowley's thighs, a whisoper of a touch over his cock, touching him. Closing his own eyes, holding onto Crowley, feeling the tightness wrap around his cock as Crowley slid down him, finally settling straddling Aziraphale with him fully inside him.

Crowley placed his hands on Aziraphale's chest, holding himself still, letting himself feel relax around Aziraphale. Aziraphale held Crowley's hips, slowly he moved, being rewarded with a groan from Crowley, Aziraphale rolled his hips slowly pressing up into Crowley. Crowley's forehead was dotted with beads of sweat, with each roll, Crowley's breath hitched, panting, gasping.

Crowley started to move against Aziraphale's roll of his hips. Each roll found Crowley finding his own rhythm, fully pressing against him, meeting each roll with a smack of Crowley's ass against him.

"Need more Aziraphale, please.."

Aziraphale growled, sitting up and pulling Crowley to him, kissing him as though life was going to end if he didn't. Rolling Crowley slowly onto his back, he hitched his legs over his hips. Pressing into Crowley, he slowed the motion making Crowley feel him, filling him. Crowley grabbed onto Aziraphale's shoulders, holding onto him, nails biting into his flesh.

Crowley hooked his ankles together, pulling Aziraphale deeper inside him, pressing into his prostate; Aziraphale felt it as nails were dragged over his back, gritting his teeth. Loving each time he moved just the right way that had Crowley calling his name like a prayer, Aziraphale wanted to hear that forever.

Crowley's breathing was less than gasps, feeling him clenching erratically around his cock. Sliding out of Crowley only dragged a moaning whimper from him. Aziraphale got behind Crowley, pressing his back down, Crowley resting his forehead on the bed as Aziraphale slid a pillow under Crowley's hips.

Aziraphale lowered himself, licking Crowley from his balls, over his entrance, leaving Crowley shuddering and pleading. Aziraphale aligned himself and slid in, slowly, feeling the relax, Aziraphale fucked in and fucked in hard. Crowley couldn't help the sounds that left him.

Leaning over Crowley, Aziraphale slid his hand between Crowley's legs to take Crowley in his hand. A panting squeak left Crowley as his hand grabbed Aziraphale's wrist.

"It'll be too much, oh fuck.."

"Okay, right, okay."

Aziraphale adjusted the pillow under Crowley, who arched his back; Crowley evidently forgot all words but ~Fuck~. Apparently, that was the angle he needed, and Aziraphale was more than happy to fuck Crowley at whatever angle he wanted. Reaching into Crowley's hair, Aziraphale pulled, Crowley tightened around him, almost toppling Aziraphale into bliss, but he pulled far harder than he meant.

Crowley hissed out a growling moan, as his hair was yanked rather hard.

"Sorry, sorry..."

"Pull..."

Aziraphale was more than happy to oblige Crowley as he pulled, he pressed himself harder into each roll of Crowley's spine. Crowley rolled from his shoulders to his hips, slamming back into Aziraphale. The motion, every thrust was met by a roll that slid Aziraphale over Crowley's prostate till he was seeing stars; finally, Aziraphale felt Crowley start to lose the rhythm he had nurtured.

Aziraphale held him by the hips, continuing where he couldn't anymore, panting, and gasping out what Aziraphale thought was his name Crowley h-came, and came hard against Aziraphale. Aziraphale slowed himself, leaning over Crowley, guiding him through each wave of his orgasm. Crowley groaned as Aziraphale pulled out, sitting back, taking himself in his own hand looking over the rather blissed out Crowley, who was trying to catch his breath.

"You better be doing that over my ass Angel."

"...and lose this view, not a chance."


	10. Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel decides to stop  
> at Aziraphale's cottage in  
> hopes of convincing him to  
> come back to the orchestra,  
> but he wasn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Warnings!
> 
> A bit of fluff before Tomorrowland

**Chapter 10**

_Gabriel_

**[PLAYLIST FOR CHAPTER 10 - CLICK FOR MUSIC](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7z9-dU_shInqKA7eleqbLs) **

Gabriel paced back and forth across the orchestra's stage, adjusting chairs, moving music stands while listening to a recording that had happened weeks before. Always one for perfection, he listened with a keen ear to the way the orchestra controlled the ebb and flow of the music, controlling one's feelings with it. Bringing up feelings from long ago, present or so beautiful it would bring you to tears.

Gabriel sat on the edge of the stage, letting the music wash over him, taking the lead was Aziraphale. A violinist that held such vast ability. The ability to make one feel as though the violin were alive and singing to you. Gabriel knew he had lost his temper; he shouldn't have pushed Aziraphale to the point of leaving.

Knowing he would have to go grovel on hand and knee, beg if he had too. He knew he needed too; Gabriel knew he was going to have to... If he let Crowley play with Aziraphale and the others, it would be hard to beat them even with the full orchestra. Thinking back to when he banished Crowley from the orchestra just because he wouldn't be controlled by him, was again, Gabriel's mistake.

Grabbing his belongings, Gabriel headed for Aziraphales house, the sun was going down, but it was still early enough to not be a bother. Getting into his car, he thought for a moment,

~Would I be bothering him? What if Crowley is there?~

More than likely not, Aziraphale would be alone he had to be; they weren't together, musically yes, but other than that, Aziraphale couldn't be Crowleys type, right? Crowley had turned Gabriel down, and it still stung. In his heart, he knew it was the reason he banished Crowley, not because of his abilities, the talent that ran so strong through him. Remembering the way Crowley's fingers danced over the keys of the piano, Gabriel sighed.

Looking at the CD he had in his hand, Gabriel slid it into the player, sitting back in his seat, closing his eyes for only a moment. Gabriel still kept recordings of Crowley; he had a style all his own even when playing classical, there was just something beneath the surface of the music that you could feel but not figure out what it was.

"Fuck it."

Gabriel headed for Aziraphale's house; calling him would be useless. More often than not, Aziraphale didn't answer the phone; instead, he let it go to his machine that must have been from the nineteen-eighties. Gabriel chuckled at the thought, old fashioned violinist that had a penchant for playing anything but classical unless he was forced.

Gabriel cringed at himself, knowing he forced him, never letting him do what he was genuinely hired for. Speeding up, Gabriel drove to the cottage, pulling up to the drive, he saw the Bentley, Crowley was here. Stopping, Gabriel debated going to the house; he pulled in, shut off the car, and waited a moment.

As he sat there waiting to see if anyone came out, music drifted out from the cottage. Gabriel couldn't help himself; what he was hearing was amazing; it was definitely Crowley playing, but as he got closer, the tempo was changed, a beat dropped, bass blared for a while, it was definitely Crowley, he knew it. Crowley was the only one that could turn anything into beauty, even loud, bass-thumping sounds.

Gabriel leaned against his car, looking at the Bentley, listening to the music, not being able to help himself, he ran a finger down the length of the Bentley. The car itself screamed Crowley, sleek, beautiful, and when it ran, it purred, making a different kind of music, music that fit Crowley. Gabriel knew he still harbored feelings for Crowley, ones that he could never express; Crowley had flat out turned him down.

Finally, finding a place to sit just outside the cottage, away from the windows, he wanted to hear, to listen and not interrupt; it was too beautiful to do that. Aziraphale's violin suddenly sang above the music Crowley made, making Gabriel turn towards the cottage, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as the beauty of Aziraphale's playing took him by surprise; it was love. Walking around to the cottage's back, the sliding doors were open, sheer white curtains were blowing from the lakes breeze.

Crowley had started getting back into classical music because of Aziraphale; to come up with music that they all could play, but the song he prepared for Aziraphale was one of the pieces he created. He wanted to hear Aziraphale play without everyone, the practices were going perfect, and Tomorrowland was in three days, but today, he wanted to hear Aziraphale play his music. Today was going to be just for them; it had already been a week since they had any time alone.

Crowley couldn't help the smitten smirk as Aziraphale played, catching it just as Crowley tried to hide it. Walking to him, Aziraphale played to him, looking at him, letting Crowley take the lead in the tempo and how it went. Aziraphale followed, never missing a beat, playing the music his love created to perfection; Crowley had made this; it was something that Aziraphale wanted to play at the competition.

Crowley watched Aziraphale play the violin, watching as his eyes closed, letting the music take him wherever it wanted. Crowley never thought he would hear anything he wrote played, other than by himself, but by a world-class violinist like Aziraphale never. To see Aziraphale actually playing as though he loved the music made Crowleys heart sing.

Gabriel stood, staying just out of view as he watched; he had never seen Aziraphale play like this, Gabriel had never given him a chance, yet here he was playing Crowleys music. Gabriel could feel it; the way Aziraphale was playing wasn't for just the music, but as he watched, he could tell he was playing for Crowley and playing the music as though it were written by a master, deserving of his very best. The notes singing from strings that he slid his bow over, perfection as Aziraphale's fingers slid up and down the neck of the violin.

The bow caressed the strings as a master slid it over them, touching them, making love to them, making them sing. Gabriel became slightly irritated as the violin Aziraphale played was a classical one. The violin that Gabriel had demanded he play in the orchestra, and here he was after refusing to do so, playing it, for Crowley.

Aziraphale had left his hair down, not tying it back, and as he played, platinum curls danced along with the notes he played. Gabriel never looked at Aziraphale in any other way that a disobedient violinist, who was a diva, not getting his own way, showing Gabriel up. Gabriel realized he had missed the beauty that Aziraphale was, pushing him to play in a way that was less than he was, another mistake.

A step closer, and Gabriel saw Crowley. Playing in the back, with all of his neon-colored buttons, creating music that Gabriel just couldn't comprehend. Yet as he watched, he saw the way Crowley looked at Aziraphale; it was more than the music he played; there was something, there was something that Gabriel couldn't have. A look that he never wanted to see for anyone else, and it was for Aziraphale.

There was a beauty in the way Aziraphale played; he made it look easy, but hearing what he was playing, Crowley knew it was impossible. Aziraphale played the notes higher and faster as Crowley changed the tempo, just slightly making the notes seem more desperate. Pleading to be heard. As the song came to a flourishing ending, Aziraphale smiled brightly, a smile that blinded Crowley, with the sheer beauty of his angel.

Crowley shook his head and flipped a few switches, songs played that he had done for the club. They would be leaving tomorrow morning for Tomorrowland, Crowley had plans for the plane, but he wasn't going to tell Aziraphale, just yet. He grinned to himself.

"Hey, that was pretty good, though, you know, I think you could have played faster."

"Oh really, pretty sure you held the tempo, my dear, plus I was following you."

Crowley smirked, standing up, he nonchalantly looked like he was going for their drinks. Aziraphale, feeling relatively confident that he had won that conversation, placed the violin down. Looking up, Crowley surprised him, sweeping him up; they both lost their footing and ended up falling to the ground.

Crowley grinned at the squeak he caused his angel to let out, and of course, was smirking as he landed on top.

"So, following my lead, are we today?"

"Are you asking, orrrr, something else, my dear?"

Aziraphale had a way of talking to Crowley that made him blush, and it wasn't even dirty; it was just Aziraphale hinting at anything like that made Crowleys inside melt.

"Wait, what? Are you, what are you saying before I lead somewhere else!"

Aziraphale smirk, pulling a wicked grin that melted Crowley to the floor. Aziraphale was learning little intricacies about Crowley, even knowing what he was thinking with the glasses on. Crowley never really realized how expressive his face was; Aziraphale loved it, though he loved his eyes so much more.

Reaching up, Aziraphale slid the glasses off of Crowley's face, who smiled at him. Crowley was getting used to not having the glasses on around Aziraphale; he was learning to love his eyes around him. He had doubted Aziraphale actually loved his eyes the way he said he did; Crowley figured he was just being nice.

It was when Aziraphale had slid his glasses off when they were simply kissing in the cottage; it was something Crowley couldn't explain, a feeling, a heat that made him feel something, now he longed for that look from Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled, tossing the glasses somewhere behind him; honestly, he didn't care where they went as long as they were not on Crowley's face. Reaching up, he slid his fingers over Crowleys face pulling him down for a kiss, decidedly whispering into Crowley's ear, for maximum effect.

"I am saying Crowley, wanna top me?"

Aziraphale grinned, twirling his finger in one of Crowley's curls, seeing the blush that ever so quickly danced across Crowley's face. Smiling, Crowley rested his forehead against Aziraphale's, remembering how to breathe, his angel had an effect on him that he had never experienced before, and he loved every minute of.

It wasn't just his disposition, it was the fact that anytime he swore, or instigated just about everything, but when he spoke even the slightest dirty, Crowleys insides turned to mush, and he'd love to do anything he wanted, this though, this was a first.

"If that is an actual offer, Angel, I will take you right here in front of the windows."

"Oh, please do, my dear."

Crowley growled and attacked Aziraphale's neck, biting and kissing him, bringing a round of genuinely loving laughter from his angel. The sound alone was like angels singing to Crowley's ears; never did he want to be without this. The thought of not having Aziraphale with him felt like his heart was being crushed.

"Angel?"

"Mhmm?"

"Stay with me?"

Aziraphale stopped and looked at Crowley, gently placing his hands on either side of Crowley's face. Looking earnestly into eyes that captured him long before he had ever seen them. Crowley had a sudden feeling in his stomach, a dread that Aziraphale was going to say no; looking away, Aziraphale stopped him with a world tilting kiss.

"You didn't need to ask, I wasn't going anywhere, now or ever if you'll have me."

Crowley smiled, nuzzling into Aziraphale's neck, he felt arms slide around his back. For a moment, they simply held each other, from a simple delivery, to the club, and now this was more than the other could have ever wished for. Crowley slowly kissed Aziraphale; he was going to make this last, there was no rush. All night sounded good to him right now as he slid his hands into Aziraphale's hair, feeling the softness of his hair in between his fingers.

Crowley caught a hint of a misplaced shadow, someone in the backyard, in the garden he was slowly working on with Aziraphale, rather domestic, but Crowley loved plants of all kinds. It was relaxing, and someone was standing in it, watching them; Crowley stopped, pulling Aziraphale up with him. Nodding towards the backyard, Crowley stepped out in one long stride.

Gabriel and Crowley stood facing each other, Aziraphale felt very awkward suddenly. Crowley was less than happy, of all people, to interrupt a moment he was having with his angel; it had to be this douche bag. No one said anything for a moment, Gabriel couldn't find words having been caught, and he knew it looked terrible.

"What the everliving fuck are you doing here, in the backyard, I mean, what the fuck Gabriel."

"I swear it was the music, it was beautiful, it caught me off guard."

"You've been here for how long? Jesus, exactly how much did you see and or hear creeper."

Gabriel had heard enough, and he knew he should have left, but the fact that Crowley had turned him down when Gabriel had only asked him out to dinner. This stung differently, even though he eavesdropped on a personal and loving moment that he had no part of. As snooty as he was, Gabriel took offense to being questioned even as he stood in Aziraphale's backyard.

"What did I hear? Oh, I don't know Crowley the same shit you said to me as well."

Crowley blinked as he watched Gabriel, debating if he was going to kill the man that stood in front of him or not. Looking past Crowley, who was still stunned, Gabriel smirked at Aziraphale...

"Good in bed, right.."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement. Aziraphale looked between the two of them, confused, but not wanting to believe Gabriel, wanting to punch him more than anything. Though there was history between them, perhaps there was more then Crowley had told; maybe that was why Gabriel was trying to keep him away from Crowley.

Crowley could feel the change in the air around him; he could feel the shock and confusion that was coming off Aziraphale. Turning to face him, Crowley stepped away from Gabriel and back to Aziraphale. He went to speak, and Aziraphale put his finger to his lips, shockingly Crowley hushed as Aziraphale looked into his eyes. Smiling at him, he seemed to have found what he was looking for.

Aziraphale's blue eyes all but blazed with fire as he looked past Crowley to Gabriel, who was feeling rather smug. Stepping past Crowley, leaving him just in the house, Aziraphale walked up to Gabriel.

"Get the fuck out of my yard, or you won't have to worry about Crowley kicking your ass. You'll have to worry about me."

"Aziraphale, I am just trying to warn you..."

"Say one more thing, Gabriel, get out of my yard."

Gabriel turned on his heel to leave, huffing as he went, mumbling still about how he was trying to save Aziraphale from Crowley when Crowley saw the grin that crept onto his angel's face.

"Oi, Gabriel. One last thing, yes. Very good, actually...amazing!"

Crowley turned bright red and put his hands on his face, hiding behind them. Aziraphale very quietly closed and locked the doors, turning back towards Crowley. Hands touched Crowleys pulling them down so Aziraphale could see him.

"Just so you know, I didn't believe him, I had to think for a moment because it wasn't what I expected to hear, but I never doubted you."

Crowley just stood there trying to take in that this literal angel was his, and he trusted him implicitly. Opening his mouth to say something, Aziraphale stopped him with a gentle kiss, pulling back he looked into those eyes again as if debating something. Crowley saw it when Aziraphale had decided...it was a relief, or realization he didn't know...

"I love you, Crowley, have for a while now, I think I was just a bit slow on the uptake."

Crowley's eyes widened as he heard the words but had a problem putting meaning with the words. Aziraphale said nothing else, as the silence dragged on for a moment, Aziraphale looked down as if he had said too much.

"I'm sorry; maybe I shouldn't have said.."

Crowley pulled him into his arms, kissing him gently, slowly, stealing his breath from him. Finally, looking back at him, Crowley smiled.

"Wasn't expecting that, I mean, your, well your amazing, and I didn't think, you.."

"Well, I do, and that's that then. You don't have to say it b..."

"No, no. I do very much...if I think about it, it could have been as far back as when you delivered that package. You were adorable in your little outfit."

Crowley let that wickedly gorgeous smile grace his face with a twinkle in his eye. Aziraphale blushed whenever that particular grin was directed at him; it spoke volumes of what Crowley wanted and what he was planning. Resting his arms upon Crowley's shoulders, he played with his hair.

"So, about earlier...."

Crowley smirked and spun Aziraphale around, pushing and bullying him back and into the bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot, just in case some creeper came back. Decidedly Crowley would deal with Gabriel some other way, but right now, an angel was being rather demanding and deserved far more attention than Gabriel.

Gabriel slammed the door of his car and started it up, driving off in a huff, he was angry, but as he drove, he realized he was pissed at himself. That was not the way that was supposed to go at all; why had he said that? What was he thinking? He knew he would never get either of them to come back to the orchestra, and he couldn't blame them. He fucked up, another mistake.

Gabriel had to figure out a way now to stop them from playing at the competition. If they didn't win because of his fuck up, he would definitely be fired, he shook his head. The gears of his mind were churning, grinding away. It was evident to him that Aziraphale wasn't going to believe anything that Gabriel said, and he would be right not too.

Though, if Aziraphale didn't make it to the competition or couldn't play, that would solve everything. No violinist, no Crowley, no competition at all, they would simply win, but the question now was how to accomplish it. Gabriel would figure it out before the competition right now; he just wanted to get home, shower, and forget this day ever happened.


	11. Angels & Demons Take Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group of musicians take flight  
> to get to Tomorrowland! The festival  
> where Pepper, Brian, Wedneslydale, Anathema,  
> Newt, and Aziraphale and Crowley  
> will have one last rehearsal, live and  
> in front of thousands, but to get there  
> they need to fly...
> 
> A mischievous demon will be  
> a mischievous a demon a mile high,  
> even better!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this has two sections.
> 
> There is information you need for the story  
> I have marked it off where the NSFW starts and end  
> So you can skip if you want!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 11**

_Angels & Demons Take Flight_

**[PLAYLIST FOR CHAPTER 11 - CLICK FOR MUSIC](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4-eBCHgF4eZ3q6ETW59MzZ) **

The alarm went off, louder than Crowley remembered, reaching over, as usual, to shut the damned thing off, he felt warmth. Stopping mid-reach, Crowley listened, eyes still not open, he heard breathing, slow, soft, steady. Trying to blink away his heavily sleep ridden form, he caught the sight of disheveled curls next to him.

Smiling, Crowley pulled himself closer to the angel that slept next to him. Warm, soft, his. Crowley listened as he lifted himself onto his elbow; he didn't know his angel mumbled in his sleep; it was more than adorable. Taking everything he had not to smother Aziraphale with kisses, he looked at his love, probably looking slightly creepy staring at him while he slept.

The alarm went off again; Aziraphale sat straight up in bed this time, knocking Crowley out of bed and onto the floor. Landing squarely on his arse Crowley was just as shocked as Aziraphale was to wake up.

"I'm up, I'm up, are we late? Did I oversleep?"

Aziraphale looked over at the empty bed and frowned; he was sure that they had stayed together last night. For one, it was a rather lovely evening, and he was sure he fell asleep next to him.

"Crowley?"

"Down here, Angel, do you always wake up like that?"

"Crowley? Why are you on the floor?"

Crowley looked up at him from his place on the floor, smirking at the disheveled mess Aziraphale was with curls and fluff reaching out in every direction. Thanking God for the plush carpet, shaking his head. Getting up, Crowley stretched, Aziraphale watched with a smirk seeing how beautiful Crowley was, and the way his sweatpants slid down just a bit, exposing a delicate bit of skin. Rolling over onto Crowley's side of the bed, Aziraphale grabbed him around his waist, kissing the bared skin he found there.

"Oi, Angel, you keep that up, and we will be late."

Aziraphale made a rather disgruntled noise, only being responded to with a chuckle from Crowley.

"Come on; we have to catch a plane. The others are going to be there before us as it is."

"Yes, love, of course."

Aziraphale released Crowley from the bear hug he was receiving about his waist. With a heavy sigh, Aziraphale rolled out of bed, beating Crowley to the shower, inviting him in as steam poured out of the bathroom.

"Aziraphale...do not tempt me."

"You sure?"

With his best impish grin, Aziraphale disappeared back into the steamed shower. Crowley looked at the clock, then to the bathroom, back to the clock, and started figuring out timeframes.

"Fuck it; what's wrong with being fashionably late?..."

Aziraphale was in there, naked, with water running over him, and he invited Crowley, with a grin, Crowley rushed into the bathroom. Who was he to deny an angel? Wasn't it his job to make sure his angel was happy...? Yes, yes, it was. The world would never hear the gasp or the thump against the wall of the shower, but Crowley did, and that was all that mattered.

Pepper, Brian, and Wedneslydale were the first to arrive at the airport; looking around, they saw Newt and Anathema running to them. Pepper smirked; the two of them had become an item at some point during the practices, and all the hanging out they all had done. Pepper had won some cash off the two, as the group had bets.

"Sorry, there was traffic, not sure why but it was backed up for quite a ways."

"Why didn't you call?"

"We tried, but all the lines are down."

"Have you heard from or seen Aziraphale and Crowley?"

"No, then again, all the lines are down, and if they are stuck in that traffic, they might have to take another flight."

Pepper nodded as the group took care of being checked in, their bags, and loaded onto the plane, still looking for Aziraphale and Crowley. Pepper sighed as she heard the last call for the flight.

"Damn, they didn't make it."

Just as they were closing the plane up, Crowley made it onto the plane with Aziraphale in tow, holding his hand. Pepper smirked and held her hand out to everyone in the group.

"Pay up."

Crowley did not miss the exchange of money, nor did he not hear Pepper.

"What's this about?"

"Oh, we had bets going on when the two of you were going to get together."

Pepper pointed at them holding hands; Crowley blushed, looking back at Aziraphale, who was grinning far too wide. Rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses, Crowley put their carry on up into the overhead luggage racks, and the two sat together. Aziraphale was amazed at flying; he loved it, Crowley, on the other hand, did not. He preferred to keep his feet touching the ground.

Aziraphale noticed, felt the tremor in Crowley's hand. Looking at him, he could see how tense he was, how he was hiding it, but not from Aziraphale. Taking Crowley's arm, Aziraphale put it around his shoulders, lacing his arms around Crowley holding him, but making it look as though he was the nervous one.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, realizing what he was doing and smiled, kissing him on his forehead, whispering ~Thank You~ to his angel. It wasn't so much the flying that bothered Crowley; it was the taking off and landing he despised. He just wanted the plane in the air; he tried to think of what he wanted to do in the air.

Aziraphale watched him and could tell he was up to something; that little grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth gave him away. Aziraphale felt he was in for something, just not what it was, at least not yet. The plane started moving, and Crowley held onto Aziraphale's hand that much tighter as his arm around his angel's shoulder dug in.

Aziraphale tilted his head up, catching Crowley's attention he kissed him. Not caring who saw or why they were looking, but it instantly caught Crowley's attention away from the plane lifting off. What Aziraphale didn't realize was he had set Crowleys plans into effect. Aziraphale pulled back from the kiss when he felt the change in how Crowley was kissing him.

Smiling and slightly breathless, neither had realized the plane was in the air. Crowley looked over at Pepper, who was giggling, with her hand out, collecting more money.

"Oi wots that one for?"

"That we wouldn't make it off the ground before you kissed."

"Oh, for fu...really Pepper?"

"Oh, yes, I am making a killing here, I'm just waiting for the I love yous to start.

Crowley rolled his eyes at her but not before Aziraphale chimed into the conversation...

"Oh, Pepper, they have!"

Crowley looked down at the floor, shaking his head as his far too happy angel sat next to him, announcing things.

"What Crowley? Let Pepper win some money from them..."

Smiling, Crowley looked over just in time to see Pepper snarkily grinning as she collected money. Sitting back, both Crowley and Aziraphale watched her counting her winnings. The plane ride would take a few hours to get to Tomorrowland, so the group relaxed for a bit, looking out the windows, taking in the scenery.

Crowley started to not so subtly look around the plane. People taking naps, watching movies, using their electronics, eating minding their own business. Crowley grinned wickedly, leaning over to Aziraphale and whispering something in his ear. Aziraphale blinked and watched as Crowley got up and headed for the bathroom.

Pepper peeked from behind closed eyes, seeing Aziraphale's blush, and watched him get up a few minutes after Crowley. Leaning out of her seat and into the walkway, Aziraphale went back to the bathroom as well, a quiet knock on the door and it opened. The last she saw was Aziraphale shaking his head and Crowley reaching out and pulling him into the bathroom.

Sitting up rather proudly, Pepper adjusted herself as the others watched. She pulled out her phone, placed it on the table in front of her, and set the stopwatch. The others groaned, knowing they were going to lose yet another bet; Pepper giggled, looking at them. This was going to be a profitable trip, after all. She was thrilled!

*******START NSFW*****************************Not Needed for Story  
Crowley closed the door, slowly pressing Aziraphale back against it, his glasses were already off. That alone caught Aziraphale's attention and his breath; Crowley was stunningly beautiful to Aziraphale, the sigh that left him was caught up by Crowley's lips. Taking his breath as his own, somehow, that in itself was the most intimate thing Crowley had ever done.

Aziraphale thought he would complain and go back to their seats, but the kiss alone was slow, taking him off balance as if Crowley's eyes hadn't already done that. Time slowed till it felt like it stopped. Crowley slid his hands into Aziraphale's hair, holding him, loving him, finally coming to rest on the back of his neck... Crowley felt when the air around them changed, becoming electric, running up and down his spine.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist, pulling him closer, letting Crowley slide his knee between his legs. Pulling a slight moan from Aziraphale, Crowley smirked, pulling back from the kiss, grinning at Aziraphale, placing his finger over Aziraphales lips. Kissing Crowley's finger feeling before he took it back.

The bathroom wasn't very big, but there was enough room, barely, but Crowley was going to make it work. As he was thinking, kissing Aziraphale, his thoughts drifted to everything he wanted to. His thoughts being pulled back to the present, feeling nimble fingers at the button on his jeans. Crowley looked at Aziraphale, who was more than okay with this.

It wasn't rushed; Aziraphale was going rather slowly; Crowley let it go to see where Aziraphale was going to take this moment. Feeling the button let go, Aziraphale pulled at Crowley shirt, letting his hands travel over the bared skin; the gentleness of his touch made Crowley shiver.

There were no words; it was quiet, this was an unsaid moment that probably would never happen again, and Aziraphale was going to take as much as he could. Never stopping Crowley as he reached for Aziraphales buttons, too many buttons, how Crowley hated the buttons somedays, this was definitely one.

The moment that Crowley undid Aziraphale's pants, hands slide down the front of Crowley, pushing his pants down, gingerly, not rushed. Aziraphale was touching, feeling, driving Crowley crazy, but he wasn't going to rush him. Aziraphale used his hand, splaying it over Crowley's stomach as he dropped to his knees, pushing him back, Crowley felt the edge of the seat and sat down.

Whatever his angel wanted, Crowley was more than happy to oblige. Crowley looked down into blue eyes that locked onto his own. Watching Aziraphale slowly drag his tongue up the underside of his cock, sliding it over the tip, his eyes never leaving Crowleys until he slid his lips around Crowley, sliding him deeper into his mouth.

This was rather unexpected. Crowley thought for sure Aziraphale was going to say no, but here he was being ravaged slowly, by an angel on his knees in a plane, worshipping Crowley instead of the other way around. Aziraphale touched his nose against Crowley's stomach, leaving it there for a moment as his hands slid up Crowley's legs running over his stomach, dragging his nails just enough to make Crowley feel them.

Biting into his knuckles, Crowley held back a moan that was threatening to leave him. Aziraphale smirked as he hollowed out his cheeks, pulling back up and off of Crowley. Smirking, he placed his finger over Crowley's lips, blinking Crowley watched his angel stand.

Crowley more than helped Aziraphale slide at least a leg out his pants, leaving Crowley sitting; Aziraphale somehow managed to straddle him on the seat. Sliding their cocks together, Aziraphale leaned his head against Crowley's shoulder, feeling Crowley's fingers, teasing, gently preparing him, as quietly as he could.

Aziraphale buried his face against Crowley's neck, desperately trying to not make any noise. The way Aziraphale was breathing in pants, the way his breathing would hitch almost on a sound, making it very difficult for Crowley to keep himself in order. Finally, feeling Aziraphale relax against his fingers, Crowley waited, he wasn't going to push, but Aziraphale looked at him, whispering into his ear.

"Please."

Crowley almost tipped over whatever edge they had created; between them, this was more than lust; it wasn't that anymore. As odd as it sounded in his head, this was love; it was a want; Crowley let Aziraphale take over, letting his hands slide up his back, dragging his nails gently back down, over his thighs. Reassuring, touching, wanting, this was a new feeling and of all places, a plane.

This moment would never be forgotten between them, nothing between them would ever be forgotten. Crowley watched his angel, his eyes closed, feeling Crowley slowly slide inside of him, waiting, taking the time that they truly didn't have but who cared; to them, time had stopped. Crowley reached up, taking Aziraphale face in his hands, pulling him back down, kissing him as he adjusted.

Crowley realized that kissing Aziraphale right now was the only way he was going to keep him quiet, it also helped him. Crowley pushed up into Aziraphale, who rocked himself down, adjusting for the small area of movement left to them. Crowley was at Aziraphale's mercy; the way he could move, as of late, only made Crowley want him that much more.

Crowley needed to touch, feeling Aziraphale move, finding a rhythm that had him biting into his lower lip. Crowley held his hands, ran his fingers over his thighs, gently letting his hands wrap around and stroke his cock, pressing under his shirt, touching his chest. Crowley felt every inch he could reach, watching his hands on angelic skin with worship in his eyes. He stared at Aziraphale, gazing in love and adoration.

In one particularly dexterous roll of Aziraphale's hips, he pressed Crowley deep within him. Feeling himself climbing, chasing the feeling taking hold of him, Crowley could feel the difference. Wrapping his arms around Aziraphale, he pulled him down, kissing him as he pushed himself into the same place that had them both on edge.

Aziraphale buried his face, biting Crowley's neck, staying as quiet as he could. Crowley pushing him into bliss, following his angel over the same edge. Aziraphale was panting against Crowley's neck, holding each other, trying not to float away into bliss.

"I love you, Crowley."

Aziraphale whispered to his love, Crowley pulled him closer, both catching their breath, still amazed that Aziraphale had let Crowley start and end this, he was relatively content, if not a bit uncomfortable now.

"I love you too, Angel."  
*******************************************************End of NSFW

Aziraphale left the bathroom first. Pepper watched, smirking, Aziraphale entirely missing the smirk as his mind was still floating somewhere in heaven. Thinking to herself that he was glowing and rather brightly. Making it back to his seat, he quietly sat down. Still, Pepper waited; it was Crowley that she loved tormenting.

A few minutes later, Crowley emerged from the same bathroom; Pepper thought he looked far too happy and content. Pepper was smirking at Crowley, making it back to his seat. Across from Pepper, looking at him, she lifted the stopwatch in jest, as she held her hand out."

"Pay up!"

"You didn't!?!"

"Oh, yes, we did."

Crowley took his seat, not even being able to look at Aziraphale because he was trying not to laugh. Fifty shades of red danced over the face of Crowley. Crowley put the blanket that the stewardess have given him at the start over his head, his body said he was in heaven, but his mind told him he was in hell. Which only made Aziraphale actually laugh as quietly as he could.

Aziraphale leaned over, resting his head on Crowley's shoulder, snuggling into him, curling his arms around Crowleys. Closing his eyes with a contented sigh, caused Crowley to pull the blanket down to see his angel. Placing his head against Aziraphale, he let his eyes close, only another hour, and they would be there, then it was all business, at least until it was bedtime.

The stewardess's voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing their arrival and that they would be landing shortly. The group packed up their belongings, ensuring everything was the way it needed to be, and they waited. Aziraphale stayed holding onto Crowley as fingers dug into his arm; as the plane touched down, Crowley's fingers relaxed, Aziraphale kissed him quickly.

"Well, we're here, now what?"

"Now we get our things, we go to the hotel. I have to call them, and we'll get the schedule for when we do our soundcheck."

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief as his feet touched the ground; flying would be far more comfortable with a memory that he would always keep with him. They flagged down a cab that brought them to their hotel, dropping them off, they all registered and went to their rooms.

Crowley was able to get their times; it was in the morning, so they had time to rest, they all needed it. A shower would be lovely, Crowley thought, resting his arm over Aziraphale's shoulder somewhat protectively, or claiming, he couldn't decide, but he liked it.

A shower later, they were alone in their hotel room. Crowley was already in the king-sized bed, taking his side. Aziraphale laughed at Crowley as he looked at him, acting as though he claimed the bed, and therefore Aziraphale had to ask to get in.

Rather than any of that, Aziraphale crawled into the bed, pulling Crowley to him and worshipping him until they both fell asleep exhausted, glowing, and happily content. Tomorrow was the beginning of the end of all this. The last real rehearsal for thousands, and if they could do it here, they would win that competition.

The Serpents Tongue was open for business as usual, and Gabriel had stopped in, thinking that perhaps he could explain himself. He knew it wouldn't work, but at least he could tell himself he tried. Walking in, he noticed that Crowley wasn't there; neither was Aziraphale; looking around, it was not as full as it usually was.

Gabriel was about to leave until he felt a gentle tug at his elbow; turning around, he found himself looking down at a rather attractive man.

"I think I have seen you here once or twice before."

"Yes, I don't frequent here, but I have stopped in. Say where's the DJ?"

"Who Crowley? Oh, they're all at Tomorrowland, some kind of big festival that Crowley does once a year, from what I hear they are using it as a rehearsal for all of them.."

"I see, do you know when they are coming back?"

"I think it's about a week; it's a nice break, though."

"How so?"

"Well, ever since Crowley and Aziraphale got together, it's just too much."

"Mhmm, so you don't like them much?"

"I used to, well, I liked Aziraphale but, Crowley somehow slipped in there and kind of stole him."

"Oh..alright."

Gabriel went to turn to leave, the same hand with the gentle touch pulled on his sleeve again, turning him around. Lights flashed over grey eyes that kept Gabriel there for a moment longer.

"I'm Micheal, and you are?"

"Gabriel. So you and Aziraphale, huh?"

"Yeah, but it didn't work out, so I'm here alone."

"I see; perhaps we can get to know each other better, Micheal."


	12. Tomorrowland Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrowland is finally upon them  
> our group arrives and starts to set up,  
> getting ready Michael and Gabriel have a  
> plan, or do they?
> 
> The group is ready, and all look to Crowley  
> for guidance as they calm their nerves  
> on Stage Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Triggers - Just the start of Tomorrowland.

**Chapter Twelve**

_Tomorrowland - Part One_

**[Tomorrowland Part One, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi6XOQnNInm1HlmGHKO7aDl-) **

The alarm clock resonated throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, dragging Crowleys eyes open. Looking up at the ceiling, Crowley took a deep breath, knowing that today would be the day that the group would truly see if they were good enough to get thousands of people hyped, cheering for them, but for Crowley, it would be a day to see if could still play in front of people.

A day that should have happened years before, but because of Gabriel, he never was allowed to see how all his hard work, all the practicing he had done, and his life should have played out. Rolling over, he looked at Aziraphale, who still was sleeping; the slow ebb and flow of his angels breathing calmed him.

Crowley realized as he looked at Aziraphale just how much he was in love with him. Even though it scared him to admit to himself that he was there was nothing more in the world that he held as dear or as cherished to him. Aziraphale was something he never expected to be a part of his life, now or ever. Talented, beautiful, and from what Crowley could feel entirely in love with him as well.

Leaning over, Crowley kissed Aziraphale lightly, feeling the softness of his lips, the warmth. Hearing the little coo that left him before his lips pressed back against Crowleys sighing.

"Time to get up, angel, big day..."

"Oh, no, come back..."

Aziraphale reached over, finding Crowley pulling him back to kiss him soundly. A simple kiss, chaste, loving quickly started turning into something else that neither had time for. Crowley rolled over, throwing the covers at Aziraphale, and ran for the bathroom. Beating Aziraphale the bathroom, Aziraphale shook his head, pulling off the covers that were haphazardly thrown at him, and got out of bed.

Stretching, Aziraphale looked towards the bathroom; it didn't matter that Crowley was in the bathroom first; he never locked the door, so he just went in. Dropping his clothes onto the floor, he opened the shower door and got in. Crowley may have been a bit disgruntled, but only for a minute. Aziraphale knelt down so Crowley could wash his hair while his mouth washed something else.

Tomorrowland was today; everyone's nerves were at an all-time high. The shower was lovely, and the others woke; there were no problems; it was up to them now to get everything ready. Meeting in the lobby of the hotel, they all stood there, waiting for Crowley. Aziraphale and Crowley came out of the elevator together.

The group gathering around him, waiting for direction, looking around nervously, it was a big day, and it would show them whether they could work as a group for an audience or not. They all knew everything hung on today...

"Okay, look, they should be sending an Uber to come to bring us there, and then we'll set up; we have our slot at three. So from three to five is when we go up. Anything we want to play is open, though there have to be the drops and the beats."

"So three to five, can they ask us to go longer?"

"If they like us, yes, we'll worry about that when we get there. For now, let's just get there."

Waiting for the Uber, Crowley took Aziraphale's hand in his own, feeling the nervousness flowing off of him. Aziraphale smiled at Crowley, observing the car pull up for them all; Aziraphale nodded towards the vehicles. Driving away, the group never noticed two people that were exhausted but had still arrived in time. Gabriel and Michael watched as they sped away, waving down a cab; they followed the group to Tomorrowland.

Twenty minutes later, having had to wait in just a bit of traffic, still early enough to avoid the crowds and mobs of people, cars, and the like, the group walked in. Eyes widening as they all took in Tomorrowland. Crowley looked back at the group and laughed; having been here before, he squeezed Aziraphale's hand.

"Crowley, I have never played in anything this big before. Are you well, are you sure we can do this?"

Crowley smiled, looking back at the musicians who were used to concert halls, the quiet of people listening. A worry cast its shadow over all of the group as they looked at Crowley for reassurance. Crowley swallowed, having not thought of the difference they were going to have endure, his eyes glancing between each one of them.

"Okay, listen, this is to have fun; it's a practice. Yes, there will be more people than you have played in front of, but what difference does it make? You have all played in front of hundreds of people, thousands over your career; you can do this. You are all amazing, you've got this, I promise we'll do great!"

Crowley smiled wholeheartedly, meaning every word he said. Glancing between his group again, he saw the cloud of worry slowly lift from their eyes.

"Alright, we can do this, but you need to guide us from here; we're in your hands, my dear."

The group nodded in agreement, still all looking for guidance now from Crowley. It was Crowley's turn to be nervous, which he was readily able to hide. He got the same feeling every time he played for a crowd this big, but he had faith, a lot of faith. With a half-cocked smirk, Crowley led them inside, back behind the stage to where their room was.

Crowley swung the door open to a large plush room. Their equipment was all in the room, ready for them to be tested, tuned, and anything else they needed to do. Along one wall were snacks for the group, drinks, flowers; the room was astonishing. Pepper and the rest stopped to drink in what they were viewing. Never had any of them had a room like this for any concert.

It had always been drop your belongings off in this cubby, grab your instrument, and head to the stage to set up. With a coy grin on their faces, they nodded, feeling the tension dissipate from them.

"Well, shit, I can get used to this!"

Crowley chuckled at Pepper as he plopped down on the couch, letting his arms and legs fall where they may. Aziraphale shook his head lovingly at Crowley; he had already missed seeing Crowley spread out like that on his couch. A thought passed through his mind, Aziraphale was completely and utterly in love with Crowley; the realization sent shockwaves through him.

Crowley happened to be looking at Aziraphale from behind his glasses, seeing something new in the way Aziraphale looked at him suddenly. He had seen flashes of it before, fleeting, never staying for more than a moment, but that look, that feeling Crowley got from that look, stayed. It didn't leave Aziraphale's eyes, the tilt of his head, the widening of Aziraphale's eyes as his glance took Crowley in before turning away and towards his violin.

"Everything alright, Aziraphale?"

Crowley inquired as his head tilted to the right trying to see Aziraphales face; he needed to see that look again. Something in that look made him feel warm, soft. His insides seemed to melt with that one look Aziraphale gave him, and he found himself wanting.

"Oh yes, my dear, everything is perfectly tickety-boo!"

There it was, that ~tickety-boo~ whenever Aziraphale was keeping something to himself. Crowley felt the need to know what it was, but before he could say anything, Aziraphale stepped out of the room to ~look around~. Aziraphale needed to catch his breath, stop his heart from beating so hard in his chest that he could hear it.

Aziraphale took a deep grounding breath, slowly his breathing calmed, and he felt his feet touch the ground again. The worry of saying too much to Crowley filled him; what would Crowley think if he told him? Would he run, would he hide, was it too soon? Aziraphale didn't know; he only knew that he was deeply head over heels in love with Crowley.

Leaning against the wall, Aziraphale let his eyes slide shut. The realization almost too much for his overwhelmed sense as it was. Aziraphale let the feelings wash over him, the love, the need, the absolute adoration of the man he had accidentally met. Could he have something that he always wished for but never truly believed he could have, with anyone.

Music was playing from somewhere in the distance, yet even as loud as it was, Aziraphale could only hear his heart. The way his mind let the feelings flow over him, playing their own song against his heart and traversing a part of his mind he had given up a long time ago.

Michael and Gabriel called an Uber who, luckily for them, was just down the street from the hotel; a few moments later, they had slid into the Uber.

"Where do you need to go? Tomorrowland by chance?"

"Yes, but how..."

"Come on, man, everyone is heading that way; it's a big deal. Shouldn't be too much traffic just yet, so you're lucky that you left when we did."

Gabriel nodded, sitting back against the backseat, taking a breath. He was tired; of that, there was no doubt it had been a last-minute decision to go and follow Aziraphale and Crowley; it was a red-eye flight at the very last minute. The only reason they arrived around the same time as Aziraphale and Crowley was that Gabriel had paid extra for a non-stop flight.

Michael quietly sat next to Gabriel, going over everything that had happened over that last ten hours or so. Thinking of what their plan was, trying to figure out the why's and what-if's, but never genuinely wondering about the should we's.

Michael heard Gabriel sigh; looking over at him, he saw that his eyes had closed. Gabriel asleep was rather lovely, and Michael wondered if maybe possibly, they could just enjoy the shows together rather than do what they had planned to do, but Michael knew he, himself, probably wasn't Gabriels type. Truthfully he didn't even know if he liked men or not.

In his own head, Michael had decided that Gabriel probably had a beautiful tall wife with two and a half kids somewhere. Michael finally closed his eyes, and as he started to drift, his hand rested on top of Gabriels.

It was about an hour later that they had arrived; traffic had built up already this early before the show had even started; the lines to get in were even worse, but Gabriel had a plan for that as well.

Opening his eyes as the Uber driver nudged him awake, he looked down, seeing Michael's hand resting over his. Glancing over at a sleeping Michael, he smiled, for once in a long while, but still, they had a plan that they needed to do, right? For a moment, Gabriel thought...~why~

Gabriel jostled Michael awake, and the two got out of the car. Paying the driver, Gabriel turned around to face Michael, a tilt of his head, and Gabriel wondered again, something pulled, something in the back recesses of his mind told him that this was wrong. He thought of why and couldn't come up with a good reason other than his ego, other than not liking to lose to anybody.

That was it, it was his ego, and even as he looked at Michael, someone he might be able to have a chance with, Gabriel still couldn't let it go. He wanted to, but knowing he had dragged someone else into his mess, the idea of tricking Crowley into thinking Aziraphale was messing around behind his back, well it was more than useless, and Gabriel knew it.

Yet here they were, and the plan was still going to continue. Gabriel sighed and took Michael's hand in his own, a light squeeze, and both felt something, but Gabriel ignored it, pulling Michael towards a side ticket booth that was selling backstage passes for the whole show, for an outrageous price.

"Gabriel, I don't have that kind of money. can't we just forget this, maybe go enjoy the show?"

"We have a plan; we have to go through with it."

"Do we though Gabriel? No one knows we were here, no one knows that there was a plan, we are the only ones that know anything. I don't want to go through with this; it's wrong, Gabriel."

"I'll pay for the tickets."

"You just can't let this go, can you?"

"No, what would you suggest we do? We're here."

Michael smiled brightly; Gabriel opened a line of questioning that Michael couldn't figure on how to open, and now, Gabriel opened it himself. If it was going to wrong, well, now was the time.

Michael pulled on whatever courage he had and took a step towards Gabriel, who was still holding his hand. Of course, Michael didn't mine, but he did notice. In fact, there was no reason for Gabriel to be holding his hand at all.

Gabriel was far taller than Michael, so as he stepped towards Gabriel, he had to look up into violet eyes that seemed to shine with or without light. A smirk placed it's on Michael's lips as he looked up at Gabriel, who still was holding his hand.

"You could ask me on a date; since we are here, you could get to know me better."

Gabriel's eyes widened; he had never had anyone be quite this bold with him; he felt his heart thump. Though as the plan still bounced around his head, parts of it were quickly disappearing. Gabriel couldn't help but look down into eyes that he hadn't really looked into but found something he hadn't had in what seemed forever hope.

"A date?"

Gabriel stuttered out; as unexpected as this turn of events was, Gabriel had lost some of his composure as Michael stared up at him.

"Yes, a date. Me, you, and all of Tomorrowland, who knows where it may lead, but to me, kissing you would be far better than kissing Aziraphale. Let them have a life, Gabriel; you could maybe start here, with me?"

Gabriel swallowed hard as he nodded, much to the delight of Michael, who continued to hold his hand; a light squeeze and a tug pulled Gabriel down. Still being too tall for him, Michael stood on his tiptoes and brushed his lips over Gabriels, who inhaled as the plan flew away, was grabbed mid-air by a seagull, and unceremoniously dropped into the nearest body of water.

Aziraphale didn't hear when Michael had walked up to him, nor when Gabriel knocked on the door of their room. It was only as the door opened and Crowley stepped out that Michael tapped Aziraphale on the shoulder. Aziraphale's' eyes flew open; it took a moment for his mind to clear out the love he was feeling.

Crowley opened the door and stepped out, rather annoyed to find Gabriel and Michael both there. Why were they there? Had they followed them instinctively, Crowley went to Aziraphale's side, sliding his arm around him. Looking between the two, Crowley frowned before either had said anything.

"What and why are the two of you here and back here?"

Crowley kept his arm around Aziraphale, pulling him closer to his side, standing just slightly in front of Aziraphale. This wasn't the first time Gabriel and Michael had done something underhanded towards them, and he wasn't taking any chances. Aziraphale looked between the two men, slowly it dawned on his that they were standing relatively close to each other; his eyes drifted down, seeing their hands interlinked with the other.

Aziraphale smiled, taking a step forward, nudging Crowley just enough as he nodded his head down; Crowley followed Aziraphale's line of sight, seeing the same thing, he eased up.

"Good luck with the show, that's it, we're going to be watching, so no screw-ups, either of you."

Gabriel smiled, actually smiled, and both Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other; seeing Gabriel was either terrifying or genuinely beautiful, it certainly was a toss-up. Though next to Gabriel, Michael indeed beamed. Michael knew what would have happened, what the plan was, but it was better to keep it safely tucked away and enjoy whatever this was he might have with Gabriel; it was something.

Crowley called for security, explaining that Gabriel and Michael were to have front row. Smiling, Gabriel and Michael were escorted away. Crowley turned his attention to his angel, pulling him into his embrace, holding him ever so close to him. Aziraphale could hear Crowley's heart beating; he melted into Crowley's embrace, breathing slowly, listening to a heart that beat for him.

Crowley leaned back a bit, tilting Aziraphale's head up, slowly lowering his head to Aziraphale's. They stood together forehead to forehead, eyes closed as he let Aziraphale breathe.

"Kiss me, Crowley, please; I need to feel you."

Crowley smiled, tilting Aziraphale's head up just slightly more; he brushed his lips over Aziraphale's.

"Anything you want, my angel, it's yours. Me, my heart, anything you need, whenever you need."

Aziraphale sighed at his words, taking in a deep breath before Crowley's mouth quieted Aziraphale's. Drinking in the gasp, drinking in the air that Aziraphale used, Crowley felt Aziraphale's knees shake for a moment. Breaking the kiss, Crowley looked into Aziraphale's eyes; there it was, that look, something shimmered in Aziraphale's eyes, something that wasn't there before but now shined brightly.

Crowley ran his finger along Aziraphale's jawline and smiled at him. Aziraphale felt something, gentle, caring, more than it was before; he saw it in Crowleys eyes. Could he possibly feel the same? The other tried to convey a language, but neither knew how, both afraid of ending something they needed, something they both desperately wanted, forever—each other.

Crowley walked Aziraphale back into the room, opening the door in the back to the bathroom. Large enough to hold all of the group in there all at once, Crowley tilted his head, having the others leave the room for a moment.

"Go get a drink, you guys, just give me a minute."

Pepper nodded and bullied the others out of the room, shooing them as she went along, closing the door behind her. Crowley leaned against the bathroom door, pulling Aziraphale back up against him. Feeling the shivers finally leave his angel, he looked down at Aziraphale.

"Are you going to be okay? We don't have to do this. I can go do my set, and we can just go home."

Crowley knew that even though Gabriel and Michael showed no ill will, he still held that thought of the two of them planning something against them, and he was reasonably confident that Aziraphale felt it as well. Aziraphale heard the words but never thought anyone would consider his feelings of what he could or couldn't do. To give up everything just so he was okay with what had happened.

"No, I want to do this. I'm tired of waiting, seeing if they are going to do anything, keeping an alert for anytime Michael is around; I am not going to let them take anything else away from you or me."

"Are you sure, angel?"

"Yes, even if they do nothing. Let's make this the first stepping stone that we don't worry!"

Crowley couldn't have been more open, more honest, more caring if he had tried. The look that Aziraphale had seen, he smiled up at Crowley, letting his fingers reach up for the glasses he had learned to love and hate at the same time. Sliding them off of Crowley's face, Aziraphale looked into amber eyes that looked down on him.

"Yes, I am very sure of everything."

Crowley knew he heard it; there was a hidden meaning in there somewhere. He knew it but couldn't quite place it, so instead, he leaned down and kissed his angel till he was breathless.

"Okay, before things get anywhere else, let's get ready."

Crowley nodded, calling the others back in.

"Okay, Pepper, you need to make the angel here sparkle, you got that?"

"Oh yeah, I got sparkle; come on, Aziraphale, let's get done up, shall we?"

Crowley stepped out, bringing everything to the second stage where they were going to be performing. Crowley had always wanted to play on the second stage; it was the middle stage in front of everyone and everything. To be there, though, you had to have some form of a gimmick, something different, and when Crowley got the letter back of acceptance, he saw it, stage two.

They had something no one else did, a hook, something to shock the people; they brought something different to the stage. Tomorrowland liked it, and they showed just how much by that one letter. Crowley went up on his own, getting the equipment, looking out over the ocean of people, he hoped, and even said a little prayer that they did well.

From behind Crowley, Aziraphale came up, sliding his arms around the back of Crowley looking out. Crowley held Aziraphale's hands around his waist for a moment before pulling them all up to the stage where they could lookout.

"O-oh fuck.."

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, his eyes wide behind the glasses, eyebrows that threatened to fly away as he held back a chuckle.

"That's not very angellic, angel."

The group all agreed with Aziraphale as they looked out over the sea of people. People who were now starting to turn and filter to stage two. Crowley didn't point them out, but Michael and Gabriel were front stage...

"Okay, get to your spots, guys; this is it, good luck, we got this!"

Crowley was smiling brilliantly, and it took Aziraphale's breath away; it made him want to be perfect; he wanted to see Crowley shine. Nodding his head, Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the collar giving him a good luck kiss and splattering glitter on him at the same time.

"Oh angel, last time you had glitter on and kissed me, it took forever to get rid of it all; I swear I am still finding it on me.."

"Oh. really Crowley, and where would that be?"

Pepper grinned, breaking the tension as they all looked at her...

"Oh no, you don't Pepper, another bet?"

"So no answer, and yes, another bet, but not answering is all the answer we needed, hand it over, boys..."

Crowley groaned as he walked away, heading for the DJ stage. Crowley took in the stage he would be on, the lights, the music everything was on him to get right. His group would be waiting for specific cues from him; when a tempo change came up, they knew what to listen for. Crowley watched as each one of them took their place around the stage.

Each was placed on a pedestal that would lift them up off the stage as they played; lights on the platforms would match what they played, just as Aziraphale's bow would flame, as his violin would look as though it was on fire. Crowley would be lying if he said he didn't have butterflies in his stomach, but what he didn't know was the group had done something to make it that much better.

Aziraphale had a quick little meeting with the others from the orchestra, Newt and Anathema included; each had a job. Each string instrument had been bought far earlier, matching instruments to Aziraphale's, just in different colors, but they would all look like they were on fire. Newt had his drums repainted to have flames on them that would glisten under the lights, and as Anathema came out to meet them all, it became silent.

Crowley caught only a glimpse of her, but even he had to stop and look. Dressed in complete black leather, a gown, no it was something else, silver clasps, thigh-high boots that glittered and sparkled, she was a sight to behold, and Newt about fell off the stage. Anathema was beautiful and ready to sing, it was time, and they all went to their spots, waiting on Crowley.


	13. Tomorrowland - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the show they had been waiting for has arrived.
> 
> The group doing their first show together, and in a venue  
> that was larger than any of them had ever preformed before  
> it was the test of all tests to see if they could be part of  
> the up coming competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Triggers!

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Tomorrowland - Part Two_

**[Tomorrowland Part 2, playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi55Fz5jnR_9wFDpJpSA0J92) **

The group stood silently on each of the platforms designated for them, just below the stage floor; they waited nervously. Crowley was behind his DJ booth riddled with the sheer excitement and the anxiety for the relatively newly formed group; it was something that he had never had, nor had ever shown up for a set at Tomorrowland; this was a first, his first, all of their firsts.

Aziraphale's platform was the first to rise above the stage's floor, dressed in a pure white tuxedo-style outfit, his hair having been left down, curls that shimmered with glitter and crystals under the lights. Crowley watched as his violin was played and smiled at how the lights sparkled off his angel, making him glow with a halo. Just as Aziraphale's platform stopped, the others all rose from below the floor. Newt's drums stopping at floor level while each cello stopped halfway up Aziraphale's.

The cellos rang out, complimenting Aziraphale's violin; just as the music lilted through the crowd, Newt's drums fell into place. The group created music that had the crowd's attention, enraptured by the lights that Crowley was controlling. Each of them shimmering and glittering along with the lights, thanks to Pepper and Anathema's talent with the makeup and glitter.

Crowley almost lost himself in listening to how clear they all were; he could have turned, sat down, and listened to them. Though quickly, he caught the note from Aziraphales violin and the look down at him that Aziraphale gave him. Turning swiftly on his heel, Crowley got ready to play his portion of the first song.

As Crowley played the first note of his music, white wings exploded from behind his angel. The screens behind Aziraphale were lit with white clouds, Heaven, catching the lights, glittering the night sky within them. Aziraphale's violin rang out, not skipping a beat, not a note missed, twisting and turning within the cellos, drums, and Crowley. The crowd erupted as the song, the lights, the stage performance thus far came together.

Anathema was below the stage; her nervousness was eating away at her, even as she kept it at bay. Listening to the music that played out above her, she took a deep breath. Breathing out slowly calming her nerves, she waited in a gown that housed thousands of crystals and a full set of black wings behind her.

Crowley could feel the massive relief from all of them, relief that only came to someone when everything fit together perfectly, sound, style, and the resounding applause from the crowd that one could have. The next song was shortly coming into play, and a lot rested on Anathema's slender shoulders.

It was the waiting that was eating at her; she had sung opera, she loved everything they were playing, but this would be different. Her voice was going to be altered for each song; she was no longer just an opera singer; Crowley was going to make her part of music that she could never sing. Her nervousness was more excitement; this event was something she never in a million years ever thought she would be part of.

As Anathema waited, she ran her scales, clearing her throat, preparing herself for what was to come. It was then that she heard the first song that she would be part of beginning to be played. Her breathing increased as she felt the platform below her start to tremble; she knew she was about to be lifted into the air on her platform, stopping between Aziraphale and the cellos.

One last breath, one last run of her scales, making sure the corset she wore was snug, and the wires were connected to her, just in case she fell. That was a thought she quickly tried to rid herself of, but it made her slender form shake. Closing her eyes, she willed away any thoughts of failing, the what-ifs, were forced from her.

Opening her eyes from behind, black and red eye shadows glitter and makeup, Anathema stood tall. She was ready; she could do this; looking up at the floor, she waited to see it open, to bring her up and into the musical fray that they had all created; this was it. Inhaling deeply, she was ready to sing.

Crowley continued to play; as the first song started to come to an end, Anathemas platform began to rise. As she was lifted, none of them knew what she would be dressed in except Crowley. Adorned in a black and red silk gown, thousands of crystals graced the dress, she stopped rising above the stage's floor.

Newt looked up at Anathema in awe as she rose past his drums; he couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face. His drums being played through Crowleys digitizing, and truth be told, he loved the way he sounded. Aziraphale had worried about this one song because his violin sounded so much different, but still, he played.

Anathema started to sing powerfully, her voice traveling the length of all of Tomorrowland. As she stopped, entirely beautiful black wings seemed to slowly unfurl from her back, and Hell followed with her, as the screens lit up with hellfire and brimstone. Still, without missing a note, she sang out clearly as her arms rose up to the skies. Suddenly the violins and cellos all sounded digitized as they played; this was something they had played with and liked.

Crowley hit the chords and buttons that had been set long before their arrival. Anathema's voice rang out over the crowd; on every scale, Crowley could play for her. Anathema's voice filled Tomorrowland, dragging further cheers from the crowds, and as Crowley watched brought a sneer from Gabriel.

The song continued, and as Crowley dropped the beat, Aziraphales violin and bow ignited. Looking as though he was holding onto sheer fire, his bow raining divinity through the mist that surrounded his feet. The cellos were next, igniting into what looked like lightning as they flashed with each note. Crowley had no idea they had all gone out and bought new instruments that would bring life to the music.

Crowley couldn't have asked for a better stage performance, as the lights changed with his nimble fingers. Over the set keys and his many boards, he set the next song to start. It was his turn to get the crowd going, and Crowley knew how. Holding his headset in one hand, he listened for any needed changes, and with the other, he got the crowd bouncing with him.

Anathema sang out, dancing on her platform to the music's beat; she knew she had a more powerful song coming up. Her nervousness ebbed away to confidence; she sang and moved, getting the crowd going that much more. Newt's eyes were firmly plastered on her as she sang, letting her voice control the way he played his drums.

As Newt's eyes were watching Anathema, Crowleys were somewhere far more interesting. Down on the floor, Crowley watched Gabriel, Michael was standing next to him, dancing, but as Crowley watched, Gabriel wasn't moving. The longer they played and finally hearing the group play classically inspired digitized music, Crowley watched Gabriels face drop.

Gabriel and Michael stood in the crowd, upfront where Crowley had sent them. There was a method to Crowley's madness, he didn't trust either of them and to Crowley, it was mere timing that stopped anything from playing out. Keeping his eyes looking from between Aziraphale and the rest, he watched Gabriel and Michael.

From moments before, when they stood in front of Crowley and Aziraphale, Crowley could see Gabriel's face turn into a sneer. Crowley was right; it was one thing to hear them play digitized DJ music together; it was another to listen to them play classical together. Gabriel's face was easily read by Crowley.

The realization that he might not win, the look of a defeat that Gabriel wasn't going to go down without a fight. Even if he had to cheat his way to winning, Crowley knew that look; he had seen it before. Many years before this moment, Crowley had seen it as he was turned away from the orchestra, had seen it as he went for a new place among other orchestras, Gabriel was going to be underhanded.

Gabriel watched the group, his eyes darting between them all, and then landed firmly on Crowley. His dislike of Crowley turned to hatred as he took in all he was seeing. Gabriel wasn't going to go down, not alone anyway; from above everything, Aziraphales violin was heard again, playing and dancing on the breeze that had started to blow through the crowd.

Aziraphale would have to go; if there was no Aziraphale, there was no Crowley. Without that, they couldn't compete against Gabriel's orchestra; the wheels in his head started to turn. Without realizing he was frowning, Gabriel growled without feeling the sneer that found itself plastered on his face. Michael barely heard the growl; he turned to look at Gabriel, who quickly smiled and let himself enjoy the music now that he had a plan starting.

Crowley saw the sneer, watched as he lied with his face to Michael; there was something different about the way Gabriel had looked, Crowley was suddenly worried, but that was for later. Now was the time to enjoy all their hard work, enjoy the crowds roaring and applause. Taking a moment for the group to breathe, Anathema took the light away from the group.

As the next song was to start, the violin held but not played, the cellos waiting for any cue to join Crowley as he played classical on his own before adding in his favorite part, the drop. The sound of the piano flowing out, following the way the lights danced across the crowd. People went silent as he played; it was beautiful, beyond what was expected.

Crowley was a genius; he knew how to play, he knew how to DJ, and in the last few months, he learned how to do both together. The changes he would make within the way his keyboard sounded drove him to play that much better, it was exciting to him, and the crowd loved it. Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, looking down at him from up above as the crowd jumped and danced. Aziraphale saw the smile on the face of his love; he sighed, keeping his nerves in check until Crowley nodded at him.

Lifting his violin back under his chin and raising his flaming bow, he waited. Crowley kept playing, Aziraphale heard the music going into a crescendo until an entirely different sound came from Crowley's speakers. Crowley played with the sounds as he played Fur Elise. Letting himself enjoy the fact he was playing piano in front of a crowd this big, knowing Aziraphale had his back.

Playing classical the way he wanted to play it. Bouncing on his stage behind the DJ booth, Crowley was living for the sounds, for the crowd's cheers. With a quick look back up to Aziraphale, the fact that he looked honestly like a literal angel, Crowleys heart thumped hard against his chest. He knew that the angel that stood that far above the ground was the reason he was here.

Crowley loved him.

Slowly Crowley lifted his hand and dropped it; it was the cue for Aziraphale to get ready to play. Aziraphale's saw the sign to start playing, to follow himself, let himself go, and just play like they had that first time. The very thought made Aziraphale's heartache; he was head over heels with Crowley, he would have to tell him, but he would play for now. Aziraphale knew the music far too well and just started to play following what Crowley had already played.

Aziraphale's violin and Crowleys playing together was a match made in Heaven, and Gabriel hated it. Still, he watched, taking in what was being played, how it was being played. Looking up at Crowley, Gabriel caught the look from him; it wasn't so much a smirk, but more of a gloat and one saying, ~ I see you.~

The song came to an end, and Crowley changed the tone; it was time for the strings to take a quick break from playing for a moment. To let Anathema take center stage. Anathema smiled from her perch, looking out over the crowd, slowly moving her body to meet the ebb and flow of Crowleys music.

Newt lovingly held his sticks in his hands, waiting for the telltale sign from Crowley that things were about to get going again. It would be only a short break for them all, except Crowley, who played everything else for Anathema. Crowley wanted to make sure she had a shining moment on the stage and not let her talent go to waste.

Crowley only played music for Anathema from behind his booth, the lights dancing over her body, singling her out as all else went dark. A golden light barely playing over Aziraphale as though he was angelic. A light fog encircled Anathema as a black light played within the mist. A beautiful demon sang her heart out over the crowd, who listened intently.

Not a soul in Tomorrowland made a sound; other than the sounds of her voice, you could hear a pin drop. The strings were playing lightly in the background as Crowley contained their sounds. Her voice being complimented but not overpowered by the strings, and then a perfect scale of her voice.

The crowd listened; they were in awe of her. Crowley watched to see if this would work, and it was. Keeping all the strings in check, playing with the decibels they played at and then, nothing. Just as soon as they had started to play, all went silent, except for Anathema's voice.

Anathema swayed, placing her within a night sky of stars and sparkles as her gown glistened. The wings seemingly moving, flapping behind her, spreading out fully, every movement of her wings brought her platform higher, stopping in equal measure as Aziraphale's. Anathema ignited into flames that danced through the misty black that surrounded her, turning to Aziraphale as she sang.

Aziraphale's violin played back at her, a fight between voice and violin played out far above the stage. Until, both played as one, harmony between them, as she swayed Aziraphale played the violin as his hair danced around his face. The lights dancing across him, lighting the mist with golden flames, divinity.

An angel and demon stood at equal levels, both reaching for the other—Anathema voice-controlled the ebb and flow of everything that was to come. Crowley had digitized her voice to do runs that were near impossible for any human to sing, and yet, he didn't need to do much. Anathema was beautiful, her voice floated out, and around Tomorrowland, her smile was stunning, and Newt was in awe of her.

Gabriel heard her voice and glared up at the demon. Why had he not seen her before this? How did they find her? Gabriel was beyond livid at his own stupidity and his own and luck. This group was going to be decimated before the competition; he didn't care how, he didn't care who got hurt; he only knew it had to be soon.

Michael was in awe of his friends, feeling guilty for what he had done to them before. Listening to Anathema and Aziraphale play together, seeing the stage show, their very presence amazed him. He was going to have to make it up to them somehow, but how. He couldn't think on that now; he was too entranced by what he was seeing.

Their set at Tomorrowland was almost done, one last song that would pit violin against the piano, cello against drums. A much-needed break for Anathema, whose voice was exhausted from all the singing she had done. Though the smile on her face would never have given it away.

This song was for fun; it was one they had come up with together; it was no one else's, but there's, and it was perfect. They all had their parts; they all had their moments within the music they created. Wings, hellfire, and divinity fell from their platforms, from their instruments; it was the end-all of their set.

The actual fire started to crawl its way up Anathemas platform, as golden sparks crashed down from Aziraphales platform, both mixing together around the cellos. It was a battle of Heaven and Hell, a battle of will, a war that should never happen, and in the middle of it all was Crowley. Playing with the ebb and flow of the fight.

Making the music dance within itself, ending the battle with his own playing. The crowd had long since fallen in love with their group, much to Crowley's surprise, and it made his heartache. For the first time in a long time, people accepted him playing the piano and his style of DJ'ing.

Looking up, he saw that look again from Aziraphale, that something that used to flitter away, but now as he looked up and the lights caught his angel's eyes, it stayed. As though something had happened that made something click in Aziraphale. Still, as he played, Aziraphale looked down at his love, his Crowley, he was going to tell him, he had too.

Aziraphale loved him.

As the last note played out, the crowd went on and on for them. They were exhausted, not even realizing they had played two full sets. Crowley looked at his watch, blinking and then tapping it on the watch face, thinking it had stopped or something was wrong. Finally, the next show's caller came out and chuckled at Crowley as he watched him tap his watch.

"Yeah, think you guys have done enough for one night; you're all going to drop off those platforms. It was great, Crowley, really. Already was told to ask you all to come back next year."

Crowley stood silent as the platforms slowly descended, wings folding in on themselves, the screens going dark, as only a flame light and a golden light followed Aziraphale and Anathema down below the stage and then cutting off completely. Leaving the stage dark and Crowley walking back, off the stage more floating on a sea of happiness, of being so proud of their little group and how big they sounded.

Aziraphale and Anathema were the last to touch the floor, unhooking themselves and stepping off the platforms. Both were tired but overly exhilarated by their performance. Aziraphale saw Crowley and ran to him, knocking him against a wall and kissing him breathless. Anathema grabbed hold of Newt, but he wasn't going to be manhandled; he picked her up in his arms, kissing her.

Pepper held out her hand, only to have money deposited in it; she was making out like a bandit this trip. Waiting for a moment before clear her voice, Pepper and Adam finally caught the other's attention.

"You think we can head back to the hotel? Some of us do not have partners to whip us around, and really, without playing, I am wiped."

Aziraphale blushed before stepping away from Crowley but not letting go of his hand. Newt just kept Anathema in his arms, being peppered with kisses as he waited for the others to leave.

"Yeah, let's get out of here, should be a car already waiting for us, and everything here will be delivered tomorrow to the hotel before we leave."

"Good, I want to collapse; that damned cello was heavier than I expected but so worth it."

The group piled into the car, sitting silently, waiting for the ringing within their ears to slowly go quiet. Crowley looked out the window seeing the hotel sign come into view, felt Aziraphale lean against him, still holding his hand. Looking over at Anathema nad Newt, it looked as though Anathema had all but fallen asleep in his arms.

Crowley couldn't have been happier with all of them. So much was expected from them, mostly since none of them had ever played for anything like this. None of them failed, none of them locked up, they all did their very best, and it showed.

Pulling up, Crowley opened his door, pulling Aziraphale with him; walking to the hotel door, the group let out a resounding sigh. It was over, they had done wonderfully, and now it was time to relax. As they made it to their floor, they all went to their hotel room doors, but as the rest seemed to get into their rooms, Crowley fumbled the keycard.

Picking it up from the floor, he was bullied back against the wall, but he wasn't having it. Crowley spun Aziraphale against the wall as he finally slid the card into the lock; seeing the green light blink, the door opened. Falling back into the room, the two wrapped in the other's arms, Pepper grinned, having won yet another bet.

"Pay up, you slackers!"

Crowley heard it, grabbed the money from his wallet, opened the door just a smidge, and threw his money at her. The door quickly closing as she laughed out loud.

"We should do this more often!"


	14. The Night of Tomorrowland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having won over all of Tomorrowland,  
> our favorite duo has a night to themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I have been gone for a while.  
> I was really sick and lost wanting  
> to write, but I feel better and I am back.
> 
> Normal chapters will be up.
> 
> I love you!

**Night if Tomorrowland**

_**Serpents Tongue 14** _

**[Click for Music](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi5mkmlpyHmbA5g3PFWSUy77) **

Aziraphale watched as Crowley opened and shut the hotel room door, saw as he turned around and the smile that graced the face of his love. Aziraphale blushed; there was no way around that; the look Crowley had was one that devoured him to his very soul. Stealing his breath, making his knees turn to jelly without even a touch from him, this was his Crowley, and his Crowley was hungry.

Crowley slowly walked up to Aziraphale; a glint in his eye was all that gave away anything that Crowley was thinking. Aziraphale stood utterly still, the very aura around Crowley demanded he did, his breath-stopping, holding a breath as delicate fingers danced along the front of Aziraphale's button-down shirt.

Looking down at Aziraphale's face, seeing how he turned his head up, Crowley smirked. A slight tilt of his head as the light of dimly lit room danced off the glitter that still was on his face. Crowley slowly walked his fingers up the front of Aziraphale, tapping on each button as he did. Their eyes locked onto one another, never breaking the connection that Crowley was slowly fostering between them.

Crowley placed his fingers against Aziraphale temple, gently his fingers slid into Aziraphale's hair, touching, feeling. Lips parted at his touch, the breath he held leaving in a sigh puff of air. Another smirk brought Crowley's fingers to the top button, then the next, the next, all the while listening to the way Aziraphale was breathing. Silently at first, but by the last button, breathing for Aziraphale had become an expectant want.

Heavily lidded eyes, Azirphale blinked slowly, his head still tilted up to stay lost in Crowleys eyes. The need to feel Crowley's lips on his own was palpable, the way his head had started to lean in a way that would have slotted their mouths together; it wasn't missed by Crowley. Seeing it all far too well yet still keeping his love wanting, desiring was all Crowley wanted to do, to make him wait. To make a kiss be a need.

Aziraphale tried to reach up, only to have Crowleys hands stop him, nimble fingers wrapped around Aziraphale's wrists. A gasp at the touch, a breath for the feeling. Crowley listened to each breath, and how it was received, how it was given, placing Aziraphale hands on his slender hips, with that singular feeling, he went back to his slow torture of his beloved.

There was nothing fast, nothing urgent in the way Crowley was touching Aziraphale, every decided movement was meant to worship, to adore Aziraphale. Crowley's fingers pulled open Aziraphale's shirt, knowing full well there was nothing underneath, or else Aziraphale would have overheated on that platform. Aziraphale felt the cool air of the room against his heated flesh, felt as Crowley's fingers now danced over his bared chest.

Touching, drawing lines, designs on Aziraphale, his cool fingers drawing a shiver, a bite of his lower lip. Aziraphale let his eyes close, not realizing just how much he needed Crowley's touch. Crowley smiled to himself, watching Aziraphale's eyes close; only then did he brush his lips over Aziraphale's.

Aziraphale moaned into a kiss; he knew he wanted it; he knew he needed it but not this badly. He answered in kind to Crowley, his hands squeezing on Crowley's hips, pulling him up against his frame. For now, Crowley let the closeness absorb him; the feeling of Aziraphale against his very clothed body, his overly too-tight jeans, was what he needed.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowleys lower back, pressing them together, holding him as close as he could. Lips parted, the kiss, slow, needed, there was nothing fast about it. Crowley deepened the kiss, keeping it as slow as a kiss could be, drawing out a hitched breath before he broke away, over Azirphales chin, slowly along the side of his jawline, further down as his neck was worshipped by Crowley's lips.

Crowley slid his hands up Azirphales chest as his lips were, kissing, biting at his neck. With a pull of the shirt, it came free, being pushed off of Aziraphale's shoulders. Pulling Aziraphale's arms from around him, the shirt was pushed down and off, pooling on the floor behind him. Crowley came back and slotted his mouth back with Aziraphale's.

Tortuous fingers danced along the top of Aziraphale's pants, dipping underneath the belt, tantalizing the bare skin. Crowley slowly undid the belt, pulling it off Aziraphale with a slight smack on his back, the button that held his pants on Aziraphale was quickly undone. Deeping his kiss as he undid the zipper, Aziraphale felt the gentle touch against him; he couldn't help when his body pressed into Crowley's hand.

Crowley further pressed his hand against Aziraphale's arousal, smirking rather proudly by his ability to make his angel want him. Making sure to completely ignore his own growing needs, he concentrated on Azirapahle, making sure to nurture that ever-increasing need. Crowley was determined to make his angel fall apart under his musings.

Sliding his hands up to Aziraphale's hips, Crowley slid his hands under the waistband of Aziraphale's pants. Slowly his hands followed the curve of Aziraphale's hips as the pants followed. Feeling the pants drop away, Crowley smiled; turning them towards the bed, Aziraphale stepped out of his pants. Crowley walked them backward, brushing his lips over Aziraphale's, feeling the way he tried to take more than what Crowley was willing to give, just yet.

Waiting to feel the bed hit the back of Aziraphale's knees, stopping just there, not letting him sit. Crowley felt how the air around them changed; the electricity of want was palpable, expectant, wanton. Sliding his hands to Aziraphale's shoulders, the light sprinkling of freckles, resembling the night sky, well-deserved light kisses. Feeling the shiver as Aziraphale's shirt pooled to the floor, hearing the quickening of the breathing.

Crowley brushed his lips over Aziraphales one more time, pulling back just enough even as Aziraphale tried to fully take Crowley's lips as his own. Hearing a disgruntled noise, Crowley smirked, turning Aziraphale around, looking at his back, smiling at the silvery wings he found there. Using his fingers lightly, Crowley started to trace each feather on the left-wing. There were so many intricately created feathers; feeling the way that Aziraphale shivered, he smiled.

Each feather was going to be traced, adored, kissed, and worshipped. With a light push to Aziraphale's back, he crawled up onto the bed, trying to turn over only to be stopped by Crowley with a firm push to his back. Laying down on the bed, he felt Crowley continue on the feathers he was tracing.

Burying his face into a pillow, he groaned with each stroke of a feather, each delicately traced line. For the first time in his life, Aziraphale wondered if having so much detail placed within each feather was the wisest of choices, and the longer Crowley continued his ministrations, the more he believed it was, in fact, a mistake.

Crowley followed his fingers and finally straddled Aziraphale's legs and lowering his head to his back; gentle and warm kisses slowly traveled up Aziraphale's spine. Each kiss, followed by a light puff of air, climbed higher along his spine. Aziraphale sighed with a shiver; Crowley simply smirked as he bit lightly on the back of Aziraphale's neck.

"I love you, Aziraphale."

Crowley whispered into Aziraphale's ear, his breath light, warm dragging a moan from somewhere within Aziraphale's form. Fingers tracing, touching, sliding down Aziraphale's sides, shivers, sighs, Crowley smiled as he rolled Aziraphale onto his back. Lips, warm, soft, kissing, biting, loving, stealing Aziraphale's breath.

Crowley slid his lips across Aziraphale's, letting his tongue begging for entrance. Aziraphale parted his lips with a sigh, feeling Crowley's tongue lick into his mouth. Tongues dancing with each other, desperation growling as their kiss grew deeper. Aziraphale's hands reached up, sliding into Crowley's hair, pulling him, holding him there as they kissed.

Crowley let go of control, allowing Aziraphale's move him for the moment as his hands touched, and danced along Aziraphale's form, tracing the curves, touching over his chest. Pressing his hips down against Aziraphale, sliding his leg between his legs. Sighing with a shiver as he felt Aziraphale hard against his leg, feeling his rock against his thigh.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley's hair, hearing him moan against the sudden shift of power. Looking into Crowleys eyes, Aziraphale smiled with so much love that it was overwhelming to Crowley. The love washed over him as he was suddenly kissed against, thoroughly, wanton, needful, desperate. Lips crashed against each other, taste, tongues, love.

Crowley broke free of the kiss and dropped lower on Aziraphale, his hands scraping, dragging over his chest, his sides. Without grace, without the wait, Crowley wrapped his lips around Aziraphale's cock. Sucking, drinking, swallowing him, slowly, dragging moans, sighs, his name, as he slid up, and then down. Sliding his tongue along the underside of Aziraphale. Licking over the tip, along the V, hallowing his cheeks, Crowley sucked on up, then swallowing him.

Crowley brought his fingers to his mouth, letting the combination of him and Azirapohale coat his fingers. Slippery, wet, sliding down and finding Aziraphale's entrance, slowly sliding one finger in, feeling him arch up into Crowley's mouth, he moved his finger, waiting to feel the relaxed moment before sliding in another.

Slowly opening Aziraphale, carefully, lovingly, Crowley added another finger, sliding them in and out of his love. Loving the sounds that Aziraphale was making, loving the taste of him in his mouth as he kept tormenting and pleasing his love.

Crowley dragged his mouth off of Aziraphale's arousal, using his tongue with his fingers. Licking in, opening him, soaking him, and then, as his love was begging for more, he slid his fingers out, replacing them with his cock; he looked into Aziraphale's eyes. Sliding in slowly, as he watched Aziraphale, his eyes lustful, wanton, needful, needing him, Crowley was wanted.

Finally, Crowley made it all the way into Aziraphale. Aziraphale had hitched his legs on Crowley's hips, his hands in his hair, pulling him into a kiss as he slowly started to move within his love. Aziraphale kissed, breathing into it, shivering, shuddering with every movement Crowley gave him. Aziraphale wanted more, wanted to feel Crowley deeper, gently taking him.

"Please, Crowley, please my love, make me yours, always. I love you, please."

Crowley shivered under the weight of Aziraphale's unconditional love. Crowley wanted to give Aziraphale whatever he needed and moved more, pushing deeper into Aziraphale, faster, harder, dragging moans, hearing him say his name. Crowley couldn't handle Aziraphale calling his name worshipful; he gave Aziraphale what he needed.

Crowley rolled his body into Aziraphale until he found what made Aziraphale see stars. Again and again, he pushed into him, harder and harder, until Aziraphale was a shivering mess. Crowley reached his hand between them and started to stroke Aziraphale with every push with every slide.

Aziraphale called out Crowleys names over and over again as he came, begging for Crowley to cum with him, dragging Crowley over the edge of bliss and into Aziraphale's arms. Both gasping, loving, wrapped in each other's arms.

Exhausted, they lay there, having already played together, winning over the massive concert, and Tomorrowland, now it was time to win the contest; it was time to beat Gabriel.

Falling asleep as they were, in love, together always, forever was in front of them, and being alone was the past.


End file.
